The One
by Nimue Tucker
Summary: Book Six of the Peacemaker Chronicles and sequel to Time. It's two and a half years later and things have been quiet in Sunnydale. Until now. The forces of evil have a plan to try and sabotage the One, the mystical link between Buffy and Spike. If the
1. Twas the Night Before Christmas

Hello, All(  
  
Well, here begins Book Six of the Peacemaker Chronicles. That ficlet that keeps on giving. I never planned for it to go this far, but here it is. I owe those of you that have read and given me comments since the beginning, many, many thanks. The story would have stopped long ago were it not for you.  
  
As many of you know, I lost my grandfather on Thursday. We were very close and it has been a hard week for me. I asked my list which they would rather I do; release what I have written with no guarantees of when I could release more, or wait until I could put out a few chapters a week. The only answer I received was release now. So, here we go.  
  
Because of my personal circumstances, I cannot say, with all certainty, when the chapters will be released. I *can* tell you that there will be one more before Christmas and probably yet another later next week. But bear with me. I do have family needs, and emotional ups and downs, to contend with. I do promise, however, that I will not give up on the story. I will see it through until it is done.  
  
With all that said, welcome to Book Six. I could use some reviews right now. Something else to think about. So, if you read this on ff.net, please review. If you read it on BAPS or AE, let me know what you think. Some feedback would really help my day.  
  
Again, thank you all for your kindness throughout this story. I would not, nor could I, do this without you.  
  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Buffy, and a widdle Spike, and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002.  
  
PS - Joyous Yule to those who are celebrating.  
  
Title: 'Twas the Night Before Christmas (Chapter One of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Welcome to the beginning of Book Six of the Peacemaker Chronicles. This book is set about 2 1/2 years after the ending of Book Five, which puts us in about December of 2008.  
  
Just to give you a little timeline of the Peacemaker story to date, which I had to do anyway to start up again, here are some dates of major events. This story breaks AU after Normal Again, in April 2002. In Book One, Buffy finds out that she is pregnant with Emma. Emma is then born in Book Two in what would be October 2002 (the date being 10/29/02). William was born in Book Five when Emma was three, which makes his birthday 05/30/06. In the meantime, a few other additions to the Scooby fold have come into being. River Harris, daughter of Takina and Xander born 03/9/07 and Randolph (aka Randy) Giles (yes, you got that right), son of Rupert and Anya, who insisted on the name, on 11/25/07. This story is then set in December 2008. Buffy and Spike have been together for six years and hand fasted for two (August 2006). They live in the same house on Revello. Dawn is a junior in college and lives on campus, although is home during the holidays. Xander and Takina are married. Officially. Giles and Anya are not. But they do their own thing. She sort of decided that the dress was too much anyway.  
  
Things have been relatively quiet in Sunnydale since the last round with evil in Book Five. Just the run of the mill apocalypses. But Emma has been left alone. That is until now. Not to mention that the One, the thing that mystically binds Buffy and Spike, has suddenly intensified. What happens to them is not what is supposed to happen. It is something manipulated by outside forces. But what are they? And will they be able to make things right before everything crumbles again?  
  
Welcome back to Sunnydale. Christmas Eve 2008....  
  
'Twas the Night Before Christmas  
  
"Emma, stop that, all right? Will, leave River alone," Spike huffed, walking behind a wake of destruction leading to a Christmas tree. He was calm now. Composed. Through the momentary lapse which almost had his fist through a wall and four very small children in varying states of humanity locked in a closet until roughly their eighteenth birthdays.  
  
What in the bloody hell were the lot of them thinking depositing all their rug rats here while they finished shopping? Spike wondered as he pulled William off the side of a playpen containing the youngest member of the brood, Randy. Nice touch of humour there, Spike thought. Even more amusing was the love his life deciding that it was a good idea to leave him alone with them all while she ran to the store to get last minute food for tomorrow's supper. Something he had already done once today. Buffy just wanted to escape the real horror. Four children, high on sugar and Santa and more tenacious than any demon he had ever met.  
  
"Daddy, daddy, daddy," Emma chanted, running circles around his legs, William chasing her on wobbly ones. Spike tried to grab him before he stumbled like a punch-drunk fighter after a match, but he missed and his son tripped, falling over River in a heap. He began to cry. River began to wail. Randy just gurgled to himself in his little pen. Emma continued to blaze through the house, dancing and singing and being generally annoying. Spike could feel his head about to explode.  
  
"That's it!" Spike boomed, grabbing Emma's wrist as she darted past and settling her gently on the couch. He leaned down, picking up William and depositing him next to her. River sobbed, her huge eyes the size of saucers at the sound of Spike's voice. He just picked her up and held her. Randy gurgled some more.  
  
"I've had about enough of this lot," Spike continued. Emma stared at him with big wet eyes, her lip trembling. William looked up reaching towards his father and trying not to cry. River still wailed.  
  
"Give," William muttered, reaching up at Spike. Spike raised an eyebrow and looked at the boy. William was dressed in his favourite outfit, or at least Dawn's favourite outfit for him. Black jeans and a black t-shirt with his hair combed back off of his face. Buffy had tried to coerce a Christmas sweater over the boy, but he peeled it off within seconds.  
  
"What is it, Will?" Spike asked, crouching down in front of the couch. William leaned forward and touched River's arm.  
  
"Give," he repeated.  
  
Spike loosed the wailing girl from his arms and sat her down next to William. Will wrapped his arm around her and looked back up at Spike, her crying stopping almost immediately. Again, Spike raised an eyebrow. "Oh, Harris is going to love this," he muttered to himself.  
  
"Daddy?" Emma said, her teeth still firmly gripping her lip.  
  
Spike melted like he always did when looking at her. She was the spitting image of her mum, save for the colour of the eyes. Long blonde hair. Big doe eyes. Pretty pouty coral lips and a little girl halo around her as if she could do no wrong. "What, Mite?" Spike asked, his voice now soft and full of love. He was usually the more patient with his kids. But today had been a whole new level of excitement and both Emma and Will were now old enough to understand it.  
  
"I'm sorry," Emma said. "I'm just 'cited, is all," she muttered, her eyes ready to spill over.  
  
Spike looked at the floor, guilt crashing over him. They were kiddies, for Heavens sake. Christmas is the real gig. Sort of like the good Apocalypse for tots. "S'alright," Spike answered, pulling her off the couch and scooping her into his arms. "Just got the better of me a bit, is all." She blinked at him, blue eyes flashing apologies like a neon sign. "You think you can be good if I let you and your lot down again? You're the oldest. You're in charge."  
  
Emma looked at him, proud as a peacock that she was the one in charge of the rest. "Yes, Daddy."  
  
Spike set her softly on the floor. "Go on, then." He leaned down to the couch and lifted William onto the floor and held him there until his wobbly legs steadied, then set him loose like a colt on a racetrack. Slowly, he lifted River to the floor, gently setting her out of the way of the galloping hordes. There was nothing he could do. The sinister attraction of Santa and his minions were too much for wee folk to resist. He slumped into the couch, watching their quiet play degenerate into screaming, singing, and destruction within three minutes. Honestly, he was surprised they had lasted that long.  
  
The front door opened with a creak. Had to fix that, Spike added to the mental checklist of things undermining his formerly potent mysteries. Now he spent more time fixing things and potty training and walking dogs and tots than fighting evil. He couldn't even remember *being* evil. It was sort of like a very blonde, very light Addams family. Somewhere, he knew he loved this life a million times more than anything he had before.  
  
A chuckle came from the open door. Followed by a full out giggle. Slowly, Spike lifted his weary head and eyed her standing there, a brown paper bag clutched to her hip. Her face was so beautiful, her smile the size of the room. "Don't know what you find so 'musing, Pet," Spike sighed, his head still propped on his hand.  
  
Buffy laughed again, walking towards him and setting the bag on the side table. "Oh, nothing," she taunted, flopping down next to him on the couch.  
  
Spike glared at her, blue eyes throwing phantom daggers. "No, Love. What is it that you want to say?"  
  
She sidled in next to him, her breath caressing his ear. "My big bad. My fearless warrior. My tireless lover. And you've been conquered by four little kids." She nipped the shell of his ear as the final word slipped from her lips. It was everything she could do to avoid giggling again.  
  
He had to contain a smile. "They're a right dastardly lot, Pet. Not a one is fully human. Demons all, they are," Spike complained half heartedly as his hand found her knee and slid up the length of her graceful thigh. She shuddered, melting closer to him. "Seems I've got a handle on you though, doesn't it?"  
  
"Ummm," she hummed, kissing his cheek. "This is what got us to a room full of little terrors to begin with."  
  
"True," he chuckled, turning his face to kiss her sweet, bubblegum lips. She tasted of roses and sugar and peppermint. Always beautiful. "But, despite their rousing rendition of tear the house down, I think it has been worth it." His breath tickled her mouth as he spoke, making her smile against him.  
  
"Ummhumm," Buffy hummed, letting her fingers trace the soft hairs on the back of his neck. "Worth it."  
  
Spike felt it thrum through him like the greatest power in existence. His love for her. His desire. It had never faded. Not one iota. If anything, it just got bigger, more powerful, every second of their lives. There was nothing he ever wanted, ever needed, that he couldn't find in her. In them. His mouth found hers again, her palms moving to cups his cheeks.  
  
"Eeewww," Emma giggled, standing on the opposite side of the coffee table, little hands on little hips.  
  
A chorus of giggles rose from the three eldest, the fourth just gurgling in the background. Spike turned his head, shooting the mock evil eye at his daughter. "Eww, what?" He growled.  
  
"You're *kissing*," she taunted, shifting her weight onto one hip.  
  
"So?" Spike answered, indignantly. "What's it to you, Mite?"  
  
Buffy smiled at the exchange, watching Emma search for a comeback. She was pretty sharp nowadays, and had a much greater idea of the love her parents had for each other. That is expressly why they had moved her bedroom from adjacent to theirs to the furthest room away. After being confronted about certain noises in their bedroom, Spike was inclined to prevent having to make up another story about fighting off the dreaded grunting beast of Valhalla.  
  
"It's *gross*," Emma finally countered. "Kissing, kissing, kissing," she chanted, dancing around the room.  
  
"Kissin'" William chimed in.  
  
Buffy shook her head, pushing herself off the couch. "That's enough," she said, trying to hide the smile. "I'm allowed to kiss your daddy."  
  
"Worked hard enough for it," Spike mumbled, trying not to just stare at Buffy's backside as she stood in front of him. She was perfect. Everything about her.  
  
Buffy turned her head and smiled. "Later," she winked. She turned back towards the brood. "Emma, come with me. We're going to make cookies. Will, you need to go walk Pony with your dad. Spike," she continued, her voice dropping from general mode to lover mode. "If you help me get River into the playpen with Randy and move it into the kitchen, you can go off and do the manly bonding thing for a while. Just be home in time for supper."  
  
Spike smiled at her. Even when it was just over kid juggling, he loved it when she got her commanding attitude. Reminded him of some of the more interesting things that they had done without the wee ones around. "Anything you wish, Pet."  
  
Buffy smiled back at him. A smile full of promises and love and desire. "I have a little early present for you later. If you're good."  
  
Spike stood, all lean muscle and marble statue good looks. "Aren't I always, Love?"  
  
A sly grin spread across her face. "Later," she whispered, leaning in to kiss him. "Now go do big bad dad things."  
  
*****  
  
"Well ain't that a pisser?" Luke sighed, stepping back from the form crumpled and chained to the wall. "We just can't seem to maker her evil."  
  
Draconius sighed, blowing a smoke ring from his pipe. "Of course not, you ninny," he complained. "Don't they teach you anything in the lesser hell dimensions?"  
  
"Hey!" The indignance on Luke's face was tinged with hurt. "We may only be the human Hell, but I think we do pretty well on the evil and torture and other fun stuff," he continued. "I mean, trapping souls in rocks is..."  
  
"Child's play," Draconius answered. He prowled the room like a cat, the decimated woman staring up at him with flickering eyes. For years she had been here. For years she had been tortured. But they couldn't win. Wouldn't. She would not let them.  
  
"She is a creature of Heaven," Draconius continued. "One that had been in the realm of goodness in both her human and otherworldly lives. We cannot make her soul fundamentally evil."  
  
"Can we take it then?" Luke quipped, almost jumping for joy.  
  
Draconius thought a moment. "Possibly temporarily. But the Powers up above own it. We could not truly possess it." The fanged man rubbed his chin as he paced as if the gesture was necessary for thought. "But what we *could* do is steal it for a while. Just harness it until the little Heavenly beasties figure out what we have done and give it back. It might buy us enough time." The wheels turned inside the creature's head.  
  
Luke frowned. "But if we steal her essence for even a little while, that just means she's devoid of humanity. Doesn't make her fire and brimstone, let-the-good-times-roll-evil."  
  
Draconius shot his counterpart a frustrated glance. The leader of this hell dimension was like a well dressed, handsome, annoying Chihuahua on crack. "No," Draconius drew out. "But were we to, help her along."  
  
"Ooh!" Luke chirped. "How?" He danced around the room in his red three- piece suit, happy at the thought of causing even an evil itch on the human realm.  
  
"Can your smiths forge an amulet, a charm?" Draconius asked.  
  
Luke quirked a brow. "Hello! Hell God! They can do whatever I tell them to do." The indignance was back. Luke might be out for a good time, but he wasn't a moron.  
  
"Good," Draconius said, softly. "Have them form a bracelet. With one charm. The mark of the dragon. When it is prepared, I will have my Witch bespell it. Fill it with all we want done."  
  
The Hell God clapped his hands together joyously, and then stopped in his tracks. "And what exactly *is* that?"  
  
Again, Draconius sighed. This would be a tenuous alliance at best. "To throw the balance of the essence of the One into oblivion and take advantage of their weakness to procure Peace."  
  
"Oh," Luke answered, nodding. "You know, she was here. That vanilla- smelling little vixen. The Peacemonger or whatever she goes by."  
  
"The Peacemaker, you git," Draconius shouted, slapping Luke on the back of his head. "And I am aware of this. You let her go. Your *incompetence* is what let her ride out of here with the Slayer and become the most well protected bit of Prophesy in all existence."  
  
Luke grimaced at the thought. "Oh, right," he said. The handsome, devilish smile returned quickly though. "Can't win 'em all."  
  
Draconius turned his eyes from Luke, watching the crumpled form on the wall. "Just go. I want the amulet in the next few hours."  
  
"I think I am the reigning God here," Luke snapped, crossing his arms across his broad chest. The look in Draconius' eyes made even him shudder. "But as I agree with the plan, I'll be off to go have an amulet made."  
  
*****  
  
"Are you sure you want to do this tomorrow, Buffy?" Takina asked, taking River from Buffy's outstretched arms. The toddler cooed and grabbed her mother's hair, kissing her wildly on the cheek. "I mean, having us all here."  
  
Buffy chuckled. "What, we can handle an Apocalypse, but we can't handle Christmas dinner?"  
  
"Something like that," Takina answered, looking over Buffy's head and watching Spike get hog tied and bounced on by his own children as they chirped happily about what Santa might bring.  
  
Buffy followed Takina's eyes and smiled again as Spike grabbed William with one escaped wrist and pulled the giggling boy into his lap. It was like watching a lion play with his cubs. "It'll be fine. Be here around ... one?"  
  
The Doctor smiled warmly. "We'll be here. Will the rest be coming as well?"  
  
"The whole gaggle of them," Buffy joked. "Actually, I think Willow and Tara are staying here tonight. They offered to baby-sit while we patrol and I think that they really feel like they're missing out a bit since we all..."  
  
Takina frowned softly, her pretty face conveying concern in way that Buffy found fascinating. She was a great doctor. And a good friend. Her body language was almost as telling as her words. "Kids," Takina continued for Buffy. "They have options, you know?"  
  
Buffy sighed, leaning a hip against the open door. "I know. I think they just have to decide what they want and we'll help them any way we can." She looked at Spike a long, lusty moment and corrected herself. "Well, almost any way."  
  
Takina laughed. "I think that is more my concern than yours," she joked. "But we are family. Whatever it takes."  
  
"Whatever it takes," Buffy agreed, kissing River's cheek softly. "See you later, little girl."  
  
"Affer Sanna," River answered, putting a chubby palm on Buffy's cheek.  
  
As Takina turned to leave, Willow and Tara started up the stairs hand in hand, grinning as they always were. "Hi, there," Willow said waving. "Ready for the rescue?"  
  
Buffy chuckled. "Yeah, I just have to untie Spike. See ya, Takina."  
  
Takina waved from the walkway, calling out her goodbye. "Untie Spike?" Tara questioned, coming in the door. Emma and William were now running a rope around him, giggling insanely. Spike was pretending to be completely defeated. It brought back fond memories of holidays past.  
  
"Ready to patrol?" Buffy asked, walking into the living room. "Or has your butt been whooped enough for one night?" She stood, an amused smile playing on her lips. Spike looked at her, seeing what lie beneath the amusement. A sly, sultry little grin, full of wicked little thoughts. They really didn't need to patrol tonight. Not much going on in Sunnydale and most people were indoors and out of danger. Something else was on his girl's mind.  
  
"Think I might need a bit of rescuing first, Pet, but after that, ready for a little rough and tumble," he answered, the same sly wickedness purring underneath his words. Tara blushed, peeling William off of him.  
  
"So, this is going to be a longish patrol?" Willow asked, grabbing a giggling Emma as Buffy untied him. Part of Buffy kind of liked him all trussed up like her very own Christmas prezzie. But that was for later.  
  
"Don't wait up," Buffy answered, pulling Spike to his feet. "Do you mind?"  
  
"No!" Tara answered, dancing around the room, holding William as if she was waltzing with the smallest partner at the ball. "Not at all. Our pleasure."  
  
"A few hours alone with that lot might change your tune," Spike chuckled, tossing Buffy her jacket and passing the weapons chest without a second look. He wasn't going to need a stake or an axe for tonight's battle. That was something he knew in his bones. The thought made him shudder with delight.  
  
Willow smiled, tickling Emma. "Go! Be off into the night you fierce warriors of goodness you," she joked. "Before I change my mind."  
  
"Right then," Spike said, nodding curtly and swinging open the door. He gestured at Buffy to lead the way. "After you, Love."  
  
  
  
to be contd. 


	2. It's a Wonderful World

Good evening, All,  
  
First of all, let me thank you for all of your wonderful emails and expressions of sympathy. They have been much appreciated during this hard time. I can't believe how many of you have reached out and offered to help me and my family. I owe you many thanks.  
  
Also, I am very glad that you liked the first chapter. I need a little love and hope now, so that is what you will get. For now. :::insert evil grin here::::  
  
Here is chapter two. I hope to have three out on Thursday or Friday, but as the memorial service is on Friday, you will have to bear with me. I am not sure yet what I will be up to and when. But you should see another installment this week.  
  
Thank you again for all the love and support. Please let me know what you think. Knowing that my story makes you smile has really helped me out this last week.  
  
Many thanks.  
  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
  
  
  
Title: It's a Wonderful World (Chapter Two of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike). Lyrics by Louie Armstrong.  
  
Summary: It is Christmas Eve in Sunnydale and the Windsor's are about to have an enormous gathering the next day. But there are some presents that are best given in private. Tara and Willow watch the brood while Buffy and Spike remind each other what gifts really are.  
  
It's a Wonderful World.  
  
They walked in silence, taking their normal route though town. Spike watched her looking around at the lights and the decorations like she was no older than Emma. Then again, he was barely feeling the weight of nearly a century and a half of existence tonight. Something about being around the tots, but more just being around her, had a way of making him feel like he had never died. That all of the years between that alley and her smile were just a strange delusion. This was his real life. Funny how it only took on meaning when she first looked upon him in the school. Even though they were enemies, that was truly the first time he felt his heart again.  
  
"Quiet tonight," Buffy muttered as they walked out of the first of three graveyards they checked each night.  
  
"That it is, Pet," Spike answered, capturing her little hand in his. She slid her fingers through his like they belonged there. They did belong there.  
  
Buffy sighed. "Not really in the mood to kick anything's butt anyway," she continued, sadly.  
  
Spike chuckled. She was always in the mood to kick something's hind end into eternity. It's part of who she is. The Slayer part of the Buffy package. The first reason he fell in love with her. Many, many others came after. "Sorry to disappoint."  
  
She smiled, looking up at him with eyes the colour of emeralds in sunlight. He couldn't help but return it. "I have something to give you."  
  
"Not Christmas yet, Love," Spike answered, giving her hand a squeeze. He pointed up at the clock tower. Eleven-thirty P.M.  
  
"It doesn't have to be," she answered, still studying his face in the moonlight. Spike was as perfect as he was hers. It had taken her far too long too see it. The way the razor sharpness of his features, the fire under the vivid blueness of his eyes was just covering what was soft and kind and sweet. Like some evolutionary defense mechanism. Hiding the fact that one is truly full of gentleness by looking so hard. Truth was, there was nothing hard about him. She smiled wickedly at that thought and quickly amended it. Nothing inside his heart that was hard.  
  
"Still," Spike answered, his voice velvety and smooth, like dark chocolate or fine brandy. "I've got a little something I'd like to give you first. While we're alone."  
  
Buffy's eyes lit up like a child in a toy store. "Oooh, prezzie for me?" She giggled.  
  
He smirked back at her. "Forget all about the giving when you think you're going to get. That how it is, Love?" Spike asked, sarcastically.  
  
"That's me. Take, take, take," she chanted, holding out her palm.  
  
Spike waggled a finger at her, batting her hand back down to her side. "Won't fit in that pretty little palm of yours. Least not the one you're getting tonight."  
  
"Oooh, bigger?" Buffy giggled, sidling in closer to Spike.  
  
A raise of an eyebrow and a wicked smile answered that. "I should hope so."  
  
Buffy shook her head and smiled. "Spike," she cooed. "No games, I want to knnnooowwww," she whined.  
  
He cringed at the sound. "You're regressing to your sis," Spike joked. "In due time, Pet. But," he said, slipping a hand into the pocket of his duster and producing a black scrap of satin. "In the meantime, you'll have to indulge me in a little game."  
  
Buffy eyed the scrap of fabric warily. "Um, here?"  
  
Spike rolled his eyes. "Wicked, girl. Not yet. But you'll ruin the surprise if you don't let me do this and God knows, I can't trust you to close your eyes that long."  
  
Selective hearing. "It's going to be long?" She whimpered as they stopped and he stepped behind her and tied the blindfold over her eyes. Part of her was disappointed. Part of her was flooded with memories of times past involving a blindfold or two. She shuddered in delight.  
  
"Ten seconds be too long for you," Spike quipped, taking her hand again and leading her down the path. "Can't see in there, can you? Be honest, Pet."  
  
"No," Buffy huffed. "This better be good. What if the demons come out and see a blindfolded Slayer being lead through a cemetery by a Vampire?"  
  
Spike thought about that a moment and chuckled. "S'pose they'd think it bloody Christmas, Love."  
  
*****  
  
The Bronze was quiet. Officially, it had closed for business at nine, but Spike had pulled a string or two and spent a few nights protecting the alleys around the establishment in order to cash in a favour. Really, all he needed was the building. But he got a few extras from a grateful manager who he'd pulled out of an altercation with a particularly nasty demon. And made a call to an old friend of the Scoobies.  
  
Buffy was whimpering and whining as he opened the door and led her in. It was dark, save for one table set in the middle of the dance floor, a soft light illuminating it from above. Spike checked the scene thoroughly before even thinking about taking off the blindfold. It had to be right. He had to please her. Give her half of what she had given him.  
  
Slowly, he stepped behind her, sliding his nimble fingers under the knot in the blindfold. "Now, don't think me all soft," Spike whispered into her ear as he lifted the cloth from her eyes. "Just thought you deserved a little something that didn't come in a box."  
  
Buffy's eyes fluttered open as the silky fabric slid from her face. She blinked, taking it all in. The Bronze. But it wasn't. He had changed it. Made it something else. Made it hers. Theirs.  
  
White Christmas lights adorned the stage and the balcony and the stairs to the upstairs lounge. Rose petals littered the floor in scattered patterns. A bottle of champagne was sitting on the table with two delicate glasses. White lilies and one red rose sat in a crystal vase on the table. Buffy blinked again, her heart pounding in her chest.  
  
"S...Spike?" Her voice was like a child. Soft and willowy like satin. She turned her head and looked up at his quiet blue eyes.  
  
"It's not much on the material, but I thought you could use an evening out," he answered, letting his thumb trace her cheek.  
  
Buffy turned back to the tableau. It was like something that rich girls got for a first date. Not what old marrieds with rug rats got for Christmas. Then again, he wasn't your normal partner and theirs wasn't your normal life. "I... I..." Buffy stuttered.  
  
His hands touched her shoulders, turning her towards him. "Do you like it, is all?" Spike asked, watching the stunned expression on her face with grateful amusement.  
  
"I... I...," Buffy stuttered again. "You did this?"  
  
Spike nodded, taking her hand and leading her towards the table. "Still have a little of the old romantic in me now and again," he quipped, pulling out her chair. "My lady?"  
  
Buffy looked up at him wide-eyed and sat primly in the chair as he scooted her in and walked to his own. The place looked wholly different. It smelled of cinnamon and jasmine and pine boughs and the lights made it look like they were in a palace and she was the queen. And he was her king. Always her king.  
  
The bottle of champagne opened with a pop and he lifted her glass to pour some of the bubbly. His eyebrow quirked as he looked at the crystal and he stopped. "Pet, I think there's something wrong with your glass."  
  
"What?" Buffy asked, snatching it from his hand and sticking her face right up to the rim. Something clinked and she tipped the glass into her palm. A small silver locket fell into her hand, on a thin glittering chain. "What?" She asked again, setting down the glass and opening it slowly with trembling hands.  
  
Inside the locket were two small pictures. One was of Emma with William sitting on her lap. It was a bit blurry from where one of them had fidgeted. The other was of her and Spike. She had never seen it before. But there was a pale purple sunset in the background. She was looking at Spike in the photo and he was looking at her and his eyes were so full of everything. Every conceivable emotion and those that no one had made a name for yet. It was from the night on the beach.  
  
"From the tots," Spike said softly. "They thought you might want something to keep 'em close when you're not there."  
  
Tears welled up in Buffy's eyes. "Where did you...?"  
  
"Harris took the other one at the beach. Had it in my pocket for years. Just love the way you look in it. Happy, and all that," Spike answered, pouring champagne into her glass. "Didn't mean to get you all misty, Love," he whispered, leaning across the table and touching her face with amazing softness. She looked up at him and smiled, her eyes wet and saucer wide.  
  
"It's... this... Spike, no one has ever... wow," Buffy stuttered, captured in his crystal gaze. "Thank you."  
  
"No," he whispered, pulling her back up and over to him. "Thank you for saving me," Spike answered, pulling her to him. "Happy Christmas, Pet."  
  
"Merry," Buffy corrected, smiling up at him.  
  
He rolled his eyes. "Americans."  
  
"British Vampire men," Buffy quipped back. His lips pressed softly to hers, brushing against them as light as butterfly wings.  
  
"I love you, Pet. Always."  
  
Buffy hummed against him, drinking in his scent. His flavour. Her body was on fire by his touch. "I love you, Everyday. And thank you," she whispered, her lips brushing against his.  
  
Spike loosed the locket from her hand and spun her around towards the stage. She lifted her hair as he fastened it around her, placing soft kisses on the nape of her neck before turning her back towards him. He handed her a glass of champagne and took his. "You look beautiful, Pet."  
  
Buffy blushed as if she were in high school again and the hottest guy in the senior class was hitting on her. He always made her feel like they had just met and she was the Queen of the world. "How do you do that?"  
  
"Do what?" Spike asked, his brow furrowing.  
  
"Make me feel all not demon killer-y, diaper chang-y, lunch pack-y girl?" Buffy asked, sipping her champagne and sliding her arms over his shoulders.  
  
"S'at what you think you are?" Spike asked, coiling his arms tight to her waist.  
  
"Isn't it?" Buffy asked, her eyes serious.  
  
Spike blinked. She had no idea. No concept of what she meant to the world, or to her family. Or to him. Had to work harder to make sure she knew. "Buffy," he sighed, smoothing her hair down her back. "You're everything. Yeah, you have the whole mum bit on, but I don't see you letting yourself go and forgetting that there's more to you. So much more."  
  
"Oh, really? Like what?" Buffy asked, her body pressed dangerously close to his. She sipped a bit more champagne and looked into his eyes for her answer. There she found it. Sometimes she thought that every answer was there. Maybe it was.  
  
"You're the Slayer, to start with," Spike began, backing her towards the center of the floor, feeling her body melting in to his. "So, you're the saviour of most of the free world."  
  
"Would have bit it years ago without you at my back," Buffy countered.  
  
Spike smiled. "Was there, Pet. Doesn't count. One in the same, we are."  
  
"We are," she answered, hips swaying against his. "What else?"  
  
"You are the strongest woman I know. Raised a kid sis. Kept yourself afloat. Fought the evil hordes, never gave up. Right stubborn bint you are," Spike continued, a half smile playing at the corner of his mouth.  
  
"Not sure if that's a compliment or not," Buffy retorted, tiling her head. At that moment, there was nothing that she wanted to do more than kiss those beautiful lips. "Go on."  
  
He chuckled. "But most of all," he said, pulling her tight against him. Feeling her heat burn them in an eternal inferno. "You're my beautiful, golden goddess. Perfect as the sunrise. Light as the Heavens and as deep as the sea. You are my entire universe, Pet. And every other after. That is what you truly are," Spike answered, looking her dead in the eye. "My forever."  
  
Buffy pushed herself on her toes, letting her lips brush to his. "You did it again," she whispered, her breath tickling his lips.  
  
"Did what?"  
  
"Made me feel like a Queen," she answered softly.  
  
He pulled away, looking at her. "You are, Love. You are my Queen."  
  
A voice came from the darkness at the edge of the stage. "It's all set, Spike," the familiar voice spoke quietly. Buffy's head turned, searching the darkness.  
  
"O... Oz?" She asked, shaking her head.  
  
A small figure appeared just at the edge of the light and waved. "Catch up with you later, Buff. Be at your house tomorrow."  
  
Buffy stared at the figure and then up at Spike, eyes dazed and confused. "How did...?"  
  
"It's all set," Oz repeated. "And the building is yours. Leaving now."  
  
He disappeared into the darkness again, leaving Buffy to stare enigmatically at her partner. "What was...?"  
  
"Trust me, Pet," Spike said, quietly. "And I'll explain later. Okay?"  
  
Buffy stared at his beautiful face, drowning in his eyes. "All right," she agreed, reluctantly. "But what is ready?"  
  
Spike pulled himself away from her for a moment, and then walked to the edge of the stage, pushing a small button. Slowly, he walked back to Buffy, holding out his hand. "Care to dance?"  
  
She smiled, sliding a palm into his and thinking how cute it was that he bowed down to kiss her fingers. "I would love to." The sound system purred to life as he pulled her close, wrapping a strong arm around her waist and cupping her hand softly in his. Like people were supposed to dance. Like they did when he was young.  
  
"I see trees of green, red roses too I see them bloom for me and you And I think to myself, what a wonderful world  
  
I see skies of blue and clouds of white The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night And I think to myself, what a wonderful world  
  
The colors of the rainbow, so pretty in the sky Are also on the faces of people going by I see friends shakin' hands, sayin' "How do you do?" They're really saying "I love you"  
  
I hear babies cryin', I watch them grow They'll learn much more than I'll ever know And I think to myself, what a wonderful world Yes, I think to myself, what a wonderful world  
  
Oh yeah"  
  
The kiss ended as the last note sounded and he looked at her with soft and willing eyes. They way she stared back was everything he could have hoped for and everything he needed, all in a sea of green. It took what little composure he had to find words.  
  
"Thought you said you had something for me, Love," Spike asked, pushing a strand of golden hair behind her ear.  
  
Buffy smiled, warming him inside and out. "I do."  
  
"Thought you were in a rush to show it to me," he asked, pressing her to show her hand. She smiled slyly at him, and then took a step away.  
  
"Sure you want it? Here? Now?" She asked, standing a few feet away, little feet immersed in a sea of rose petals.  
  
A confused and impatient expression crossed his face. "Any reason I wouldn't, Pet?"  
  
"I hope not," Buffy answered, reaching for the top button of her blue blouse. Slowly, with a little shimmy of the hips, she unbuttoned it. "I mean, I hope that *I* don't disappoint."  
  
He stared at her, head tilted in curiosity as the second button popped in her hand. Then the third. She watched his face change from confused to interested to downright lusty as she pulled the fourth and fifth through their holes. Slowly, she opened the shirt, exposing a little black merry widow, so lacey and filmy that it barely covered skin. Like a sheer satin glove, pushing her breasts up to look like ripe golden peaches. Spike swallowed, imagining what might lie below.  
  
"I'm even wrapped. There's a bow. You'll just have to find it," Buffy said slyly as he walked towards her with that sway of the hips that promised more satisfaction than one girl could stand. Spike stopped just inches away, perfect, muscled chest almost close enough to feel through the filmy, black material. He leaned forward, placing a kiss atop where her ripe breasts swelled from the fabric.  
  
"I think I'd like to try," he purred, his lips tracing up her neck. "Think this fits rather nicely with the rest of your gift," he continued, taking her hand in his and leading her Spike stopped by the stage to grab the little remote and pulled her behind, up the magically lit stairway to the upper level.  
  
Buffy had to blink again at the site before her. The beaten and nasty upper floor lounge had been transformed. Lights were everywhere, twinkling in white sparkles. A huge, brass four poster-bed was positioned in the middle, covered completely in soft, red rose petals. "Thought you might like a complete night out," Spike purred, finishing the buttons on her shirt and pulling her close again. She stared at him as if he could read her mind. This was perfect. This was all she could have wanted.  
  
"Sp... Spike," Buffy stuttered again as his hands trailed down the wisp of black fabric covering her.  
  
"Shh," he whispered, fingers finding the button to her skirt. "Don't want to hear another word until I find the sodding bow."  
  
To be contd. 


	3. Sundae Saviour

Good Afternoon, All,  
  
Here is chapter three of The One. I do hope you enjoy it. It's mostly fluff, because that is what I was in the mood to write, but there is some development of both the primary and secondary plot. Still, what I was looking for was a little escapist Spike/Buffy love. So this is what I wrote! Hope you enjoy it. The story will begin heating up shortly.  
  
Thank you all for your support during this hard time. The emails and cards have truly meant the world to me. I cannot thank you enough.  
  
The funeral for my grandfather is this evening, so I cannot promise when I will release the next chapter. Sort of depends on how I react. But I will attempt to do so either Sunday or early next week. Bear with me. I will be back to a schedule soon.  
  
Again, thanks. And definitely give me feedback. It makes me feel worlds better to know if my story makes you smile!  
  
*Cheery Vibes* , Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
  
  
  
Title: Sundae Saviour (Chapter Three of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Christmas day in Sunnydale. The Scoobies enjoy one last day of peace before their world is thrown into chaos again. But then again, with several families mixed, even this gathering is a bit chaotic on its own. Not to mention, an unexpected guest. Meanwhile, Draconius and Luke continue their plan to weaken the One.  
  
Sundae Saviour  
  
  
  
It was something akin to the field of battle. Wrapping paper lay like colourful skins strewn about the floor. Pajama covered warriors battled with plastic Knight in Armour kits on stuffed horses. William thought himself quite dapper in his new little leather coat that Auntie Dawn had bought him. It was too big. Came down to his feet and he tripped over it as much as he wore it, but he was proud. Tara had commented to him that it went so well with his blue fuzzy footies and that maybe his dad should dress like that more often. That got a groan from Spike.  
  
Emma was the princess to be saved. Except that she had her mother's drive and was no weeping damsel. Yet she sat on her "throne" made of boxes with her pretty crown atop her head nearly as queenly as her mother had felt last night.  
  
Giles and Anya had come early to share the festivities. Randy was too young yet and something about watching Emma and Will opening presents and acting out what life should have been like made everyone feel all right. The end of the World, for the millionth time, was a distant memory. Giles was the older step father with his step grandchildren and a new young life. It made Buffy smile the way he fawned over her kids and his own. Made Buffy wish that he had been her father all along.  
  
Despite Spike's grumblings all morning, it didn't take more than a few minutes from the time the plastic swords came out until he was on his knees in the sea of wrapping paper, dueling with William over the heart of the fair Princess Emma. Emma batted her suitably long eyelashes and cooed at the display as wobbly legged William thrust his plastic sword at Spike, catching him firmly in the shoulder. Spike's face went blank, a look that scared Buffy even in jest, and he toppled to the floor. William looked down at him for a moment, nervous that his sword had magically become real and Spike winked up at him. William giggled, jumping up on his back.  
  
"I'm da bi ba!" The little boy proclaimed, tossing miniature arms in the air and looking too much like his father for words.  
  
"What was that, Will?" Giles asked, as Anya chuckled. Buffy slapped a hand to her mouth, her eyes laughing for her.  
  
"I'm da bi ba!" William repeated, giggling. Buffy could see a shudder course through Spike's body and then hear a strangled laugh from his defeated position under his son.  
  
"Did he say what I think he said?" Tara asked, smiling. Willow just chuckled.  
  
"Sorry," Giles said. "Not sure I'm getting the joke."  
  
Buffy moved her hand from her mouth, biting her lip. "I think that translated into 'I'm the Big Bad'," she clarified, chuckling, her eyes almost watering.  
  
Giles blushed, lowering his head. "Quite funny, really."  
  
Emma stood from her throne of honour and walked towards the heap of men on the floor. "You're not the big bad," she said, taking the sword from William. "You're like daddy. You're the handsome Prince. Now save me already."  
  
Spike couldn't control it anymore and rolled over on his back, eyes watering. "Mite's too much like her mum," he chuckled. "Can't even wait for a good saving."  
  
"That's enough out of you, Big Bad," Buffy snapped, her eyes still dancing with amusement.  
  
"What d'you plan to do bout it, oh great Princess Buffy?" Spike mocked, still lying on the floor. William had run off to let Emma show him how to save her.  
  
Buffy stood, stalking towards him, trying to control the smile. "Kick your butt," she answered. "I get saved well."  
  
Tara chuckled. "You're not good at getting saved, Buffy. Saving, you're a pro."  
  
"I am too," Buffy pouted, grabbing a discarded plastic sword and tossing it to Spike. "So, get on with it and save me already," she joked, watching the look in his eyes change from laughter to something closely akin to desire.  
  
"Don't need this to do that," Spike asked, tossing aside the sword and sweeping under her feet with one leg. She stumbled, not ready for the move, but he caught her mid air and pulled her gently down next to her. "Wasn't so hard, was it?" He asked as her warm body, settled in next to his.  
  
"You saved me from the floor?" Buffy quipped, looking over at his beautiful blue eyes. The look behind them was always the same, even when their expression changed. No matter how or when or why, in battle or in bed, his eyes always loved her. Worshipped his Queen.  
  
"Among other things," he said, leaning over to kiss her cheek softly.  
  
Dawn stumbled down the stairs, yawning, still in her little girl flannel pj's. It was funny to see her that way now. Like she was caught between child and adult. "What's going on, down here?" She asked, sleepily, making her way to the couch.  
  
"I believe it's Christmas," Giles answered, finally finding words again. Dawn stopped next to his chair and kissed his cheek. Again, he blushed.  
  
"Can I?" Dawn asked, gesturing at Anya. Anya shifted, handing Randy to her. Dawn liked them that age. Spike had a theory that once they got to Emma's size, they reminded her too much of the years she spent stuck in the land of whining.  
  
Dawn settled down into the couch, cradling Randy, and looked at Buffy and Spike on the floor like overgrown versions of Emma and Will. "Whatcha doing?"  
  
"I believe I was saving Princess Buffy from the floor," Spike answered, looking up at her. "Morning, Niblet. Home a little late last night?" The paternal tone amused Buffy. He'd be ready for Emma when she got to her teens. Nah, she corrected in her head. Nothing would prepare him for that.  
  
"Least, I beat you," Dawn snarked, folding her legs under her. "What did you two *do* last night?"  
  
The rest of the crowd looked at the two on the floor intently, an eyebrow raising, a brow furrowing. "And that would be worlds of none of your business," Buffy responded, pushing herself up on her elbows. "Get all nosey and I'll take your presents back."  
  
Dawn smiled. "Plan went well then, Spike?" She asked, looking at him with amused eyes.  
  
"You knew?" Buffy gasped, her eyes following his to Spike.  
  
He sighed. "Only bout the beginning part," he answered. "Helped me with the set up?"  
  
Buffy's eyes grew wide. "But not about the..?"  
  
Spike chuckled, shaking his head. "No, Love. Not that."  
  
Dawn smiled again, devious and true. "You have two kids. I think I can figure out where they came from," she joked making Giles blush yet again. This time Tara joined him.  
  
"Dawn!" Buffy snapped, throwing a wadded up ball of wrapping paper at the girl's legs. She would have pegged her harder, except she was holding Randy. "Not talking about this."  
  
Again, her sister smiled. "Gee, Buffy, is that a rose petal in your hair?"  
  
Spike had to laugh as Buffy ran her hands through her golden locks and came out with at least three rouge rose petals. "Spike," she sighed.  
  
He nuzzled her ear in response. "I think we've been found out," he whispered, nipping her softly.  
  
Just then, an onslaught of a now organized attack from the two mobile tots came running at them, little voices giggling out game plans as they thundered across the room. Spike looked up, just in time to see Will trip over his new leather coat and grabbed him with one hand, the other pulling Buffy out of the way of the now new and improved Warrior Emma.  
  
Emma fell in a giggling heap next to her mum, laying her head over Buffy's lap. The others looked at them. It was odd how it had all worked out. Two mortal enemies. Natural enemies. But, when all was said and done, they had fit together more perfectly than anything else in existence. And this is how it should be. These moments were what made the rest of what they lived through every day worth it.  
  
And this is what made the Slayer the best Slayer that had ever been. Her Vampire had taken away her death sentence and commuted it into life with benefits.  
  
It was almost time. Buffy stood, leaned against the counter in the kitchen, stealing cucumbers from the salad. Spike slapped her hand as he moved past her, setting rolls on the counter behind her. "Stop doing that, Pet," he sighed, grabbing her fingers and pulling them to his lips. He kissed each one softly. "Going to spoil your supper."  
  
"Me? Never," Buffy said, moving closer. Deliciously close. Her body pressed against his, conforming to his every muscle. "Besides, I want some more desert."  
  
A wicked smile spread across his features. "Quite the appetite, Love."  
  
"Ummhmm," she hummed, as he pressed her back into the counter, his mouth finding hers with a hunger that made all others seem pale and wan. She melted, holding herself up with her white-knuckled hands clutching the countertop. Damn, he's still sexy, she thought, visions of all the naughty things they had gotten away with last night, dancing through her head. "Think it would be impolite if we went somewhere a while?"  
  
Spike smiled into her lips. "What itch you need scratched might take a bit longer than five stolen minutes," he whispered, sucking her pouty lower lip into his mouth and nibbling down on it. She sighed, completely lost in him. "Got guests," he continued. "Don't think you'd want them to hear the racket."  
  
"Don't care," she sighed, nearly putting her hand in a pumpkin pie to steady herself. "Want."  
  
"Greedy girl," Spike answered, running his fingers through the edge of the whipped cream and then tracing her lips. She lapped it up like a cat with a bowl of milk, cleaning off his fingers as well. "Keep doing that, Love and I'll tell them all to leave now."  
  
Buffy sighed, trying to regain control. "It's Christmas," she whispered. "Not very holly jolly for me to tell everyone to get out while I act out another little fantasy." She stopped, considering it. "Not to say it wouldn't be worth it."  
  
He smiled, licking the last of the whipped cream from the corners of her mouth. "That's the beauty of it, Pet," Spike whispered, his lips trailing lazily over her cheeks. "Not going anywhere. Happy here. With you. Never leaving."  
  
She smiled. That was the one thing that had made him so different from everyone else. He never left. He never gave up. No matter what or who came between them. She knew he never would. Not then. Not now. Not ever. There was plenty of time to steal moments, although the thought wasn't all that consoling as her heart pounded in her chest and her knees felt like jello.  
  
"Tell you what," Spike said, his voice a low purr. "I will hang onto this," he continued, holding a can of Ready Whip up in front of her, pairing it with a deliciously wicked smile, "And we'll bribe your sister into staying home tonight. All right?"  
  
Buffy nodded, a wicked grin of her own forming. "Don't forget the cherries," she chimed, her voice low and sultry. "And I think there's some chocolate sauce in the fridge." She pulled herself away, walking towards the door. "I think I might just be in the mood for a Vampire Sundae."  
  
His eyebrows raised, a sumptuous smile of anticipation lying on his lips. "Don't fill up on supper then," he commented as she sauntered out into the living room.  
  
A knock came at the door. Buffy looked around, surveying who was there. Takina, Xander and River were sitting on the couch, Tara and Willow on the floor below them, chatting away. Dawn was sitting Randy as Anya helped Spike in the kitchen. She'd become quite the demonic homemaker since her son had been born. Although they had had to hire a permanent nanny to stay with him as Anya's job was a bit unpredictable.  
  
Giles was gone during normal business hours now. The Watcher's Council had decided to form a branch office in Sunnydale, as it seemed to be where most of the action was anyway. Buffy had wondered why they hadn't done it years ago. The good thing about this incarnation was that Giles and Cyrus were in charge and they often called Spike and Buffy in and actually *asked* what would be the best course of action when facing a foe instead of just making up a plan and having their muscle fight the battle.  
  
Buffy opened the door to see the other Watcher standing before her, a mountain of presents shadowing his face. "Sorry I'm a bit late, Buffy," Cyrus said, shifting the gifts to see his hostess. "Had to accept a call from the Council this morning."  
  
"Anything going on?" Buffy said softly, taking the top of the mountain for Cyrus and letting him through the door.  
  
He thought for a moment. "Nothing," he answered, deciding that discussions could wait until after the holiday. "Normal Council buggery."  
  
Buffy sighed relief. "Good."  
  
Just then, Emma streaked in, finding her Watcher like a moth to flame and tackling his knees. If Buffy hadn't been standing next to him and caught his shoulder, he probably would have been knocked to the floor. "Hello there, Emma," Cyrus chuckled, trying to pat her head with the back of his hand. "Let me put these down and then we can see what I found that Santa left at my flat for you."  
  
"For me?" Emma squealed, letting go. Her smile then dropped. "But. but what about Will?"  
  
Cyrus smiled. "Think he left some for your brother as well."  
  
Buffy sat the gifts down just in time to hear another knock. She scanned the room again, thinking that she had everyone. Apparently not. She jogged back to the door, trying to avoid the mass of toys on the floor, and swung it open.  
  
In front of her stood a familiar face. Buffy had almost forgotten seeing him last night as the rest of the evening had sort of overshadowed rational thought and memory. He stood before her, barely taller, his face friendly and warm. A bottle of wine was in one hand and two stuffed animals in the other.  
  
"Hey, Buffy," Oz said softly.  
  
"H.hi," she stuttered back.  
  
He handed her the bottle of wine. "For you," he said. He took the two stuffed animals and held them up. Two little wolves, one pink and one blue. "Spike said you guys had kids. Congrats."  
  
Buffy chuckled, taking the toys and realizing the irony. "Yeah, Emma and Will. Can't miss 'em." She paused a moment. "Come in." She didn't move from the door. "Um, before that, does. does Willow know you're back? In town, I mean?"  
  
Oz smiled. "No," he said quietly. "I mean, I know about her. And Tara. It's cool. Spike and I talked. I helped him out with the Bronze last night. Music and lights and stuff. He filled me in. I'm not here to screw things up for her." He paused a moment, looking at the cheery welcome mat on the front stoop and smiling. "Actually, I'm kind of here to help."  
  
  
  
"It's about bloody time," Draconius reprimanded as Luke strode into the room, carrying a small silver bracelet in his hand. "Did they have to send out for silver?"  
  
Luke cringed. "Well, the smiths were in this dirty poker game with the guys who torture the new souls and I couldn't just interrupt it. Poetry in motion when they get going," he said, musing about the game where the stakes were generally fire branding the newly dead evil.  
  
Draconius thought about the million ways he'd like to torture Luke, but decided they were already behind schedule. "Give it to me," the older man said, his voice edged in steel. Luke dropped the bracelet into Draconius's hand and took a long step back. Draconius walked over to a tall, raven haired woman, standing against the wall.  
  
"Is this the charm?" She asked, her voice purring from her ruby red lips.  
  
Draconius nodded. "You have taken her soul, already?"  
  
"We can only borrow it," she corrected, fingering the amulet around her neck. She pulled it off of her chain and fastened it to the bracelet. "As soon as the spell has been broken, it will return to her."  
  
"But she will remember what she has done in the meantime?" Draconius asked, smiling. The Witch nodded, taking the dragon charm in her hand.  
  
"Fire of Hell and Spark of Night. Torture, Darkness, Death and Fright. The One will Cross and Chaos will Rule. Peace will come to be our Tool."  
  
The Witch dropped the amulet back into Draconius's palm.  
  
"That's it?" Luke asked, staring over the Old One's shoulder. "Sing a little ditty and poof, evil plan in action?"  
  
Draconius spun on a heel, staring at the hell god. "You truly are a moron," he spat, walking towards the woman still chained to the wall. "My Witch is part of me. She is made of the original evil. The most potent of all. She does not even have to say the words, merely think them, and the spell is done."  
  
Luke looked back at the raven haired woman. She stood, staring at him, a smirk on her pretty lips. "Wow," Luke sighed, lust in his eyes.  
  
"She is mine, Lucifer," Draconius snarled, affixing the bracelet to the woman's arm. "Now, when this one arrives back in her dimension, she must take on human form. Can you do that?"  
  
Luke looked at him a moment. "As long as she doesn't have a soul, I can make her into Queen Elizabeth, including the wave."  
  
Draconius sighed. "She must remain in this form to have impact. You can control her, correct?"  
  
"Sure," Luke said, pulling out what looked like a palm pilot. It had a small video screen. "Just have to tell her what to do and we can even watch her do it. Ooh," he continued in childlike happiness. "We can even watch her naked."  
  
The Old One shook his head. "This is not a game, Luke. We must weaken the One and retrieve the Peacemaker. Is that clear?"  
  
The hell god stomped his foot. "You are no fun," he complained, walking to the woman and unchaining her. She slumped to the floor in a dirty, defeated heap. "At least let me clean her up before we send her out. No use watching her like this."  
  
Draconius nodded, watching Luke pick up the woman from the ground. She was tall and looked as if she had been quite beautiful when she was among the living or floating along in Heaven. Now she was dirty and frail, clinging to existence for some reason foreign to Luke or Draconius. Love? Determination? Even without her soul, she was not one of them. She never would be. But she also would not be able to fight them anymore.  
  
Luke gave the woman to his elfish minions, quietly ordering them to make her presentable. They spoke back to him in a language Draconius did not recognize. They scurried quickly from the room, taking the defeated woman with them.  
  
"She will be ready to go tonight," Luke said, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Work for you?"  
  
Draconius smiled. "Perfect."  
  
To be contd. 


	4. Father Knows Best

Good evening, All.  
  
Okay, a day late and a dollar short, but I think I am doing fairly well, all things considered! I hope you like the new chapter. The subplot is coming into focus a bit and it's a little lighter on the fluff, but I think there's some humour in there that you will enjoy.  
  
As always, please let me know how you feel. You would be *amazed* at how much your feedback and your notes have helped me keep my head above water of late. I am so appreciative. As long as you'll read it, and there is a story to tell, I will continue to try and write.  
  
Without further ado, here's chapter four, Father Knows Best. Please enjoy!  
  
*Cheery Vibes* , Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
  
Title: Father Knows Best (Chapter Four of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: A surprise visitor drops in on the Windsor's Christmas festivities. But why is he there? And who knows the real reason? How will the Scoobies handle his return?  
  
  
  
Father Knows Best  
  
  
  
  
  
"O. Oz?" Xander stood, staring at the man standing next to Buffy in the entryway. "That you, man?"  
  
He took a step forward as Willow's head turned in what seemed to be slow motion, her eyes wide and shocked. "Yeah, hey, long time," Oz answered, smiling softly at the group sitting in front of him.  
  
"I see the wolf man's back in town," Anya commented, looking out into the living room and munching on a celery stick.  
  
Giles snagged the waist of her skirt, pulling her back into the kitchen. "He is, dear. Let's just let them catch up a moment before we bombard him, shall we?" He muttered, turning towards Spike. "Does he know why he's here? Or, at least, why you invited him?"  
  
"Yeah, why did you?" Anya asked, leaning her hip against the counter and staring at Spike curiously.  
  
Spike shot Anya an eye rolling glare, then turned his attention on the Watcher. "Actually, contacted him for help with the Bronze, but yes, filled him in on my little idea."  
  
"What idea?" Anya whined, completely frustrated that the other two seemed to know what was going on and all she knew was that there was a Werewolf in the living room with the Witches, the demon, the Slayer and the regular old guy.  
  
"And Willow? Tara?" Giles asked, ignoring her glare for the moment and continuing his interrogation of his surrogate son-in-law. "Have you filled them in?"  
  
The Vampire sighed, leaning down and opening the oven. He grabbed the pan absently, nearly dropping it before shoving it back to the edge of the door and shaking his thoroughly singed hand. "Bloody, sodding, stupid."  
  
"Turkey?" Anya snarked, rescuing the bird and pulling it to the range top while simultaneously shoving Spike's hand into the sink and running water over the burn. "Idea?" She asked again, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Thought Buffy and I'd have a sit down with the birds and Oz and suss things out. Possible course of action, and all that rot. 'Course, I need to find a moment to fill in Buffy." Spike began, still whimpering at the feel of the cold water on his mottled skin.  
  
"You haven't told Buffy?" Giles gasped, shaking his head.  
  
Spike smiled slyly. "Didn't know if he'd actually show until I got to the Bronze last night. Bit preoccupied after that, Mate."  
  
The Watcher blushed. "Spare me the details. Please."  
  
"What.Idea!?" Anya finally snapped, pulling Spike's hand from the water and wrapping it in a clean dish cloth. As she wrapped it, she put just a little too much pressure on the singed bits.  
  
"Ow," Spike whined, snatching his hand away.  
  
Her eyebrow rose, grabbing his hand again. "Vengeance demon. All about the torture. Start singing, hot Vampire man."  
  
Giles and Spike both raised an eyebrow at that. "You know," she continued. "Hot, like oven burned hot." They still stared. She sighed. "Aw, Rupie. You know I love you."  
  
"I know dear," he commented, leaning back against the wall. "Tell her your idea, Spike."  
  
"Yeah," another voice said from the dining room entrance to the kitchen. Buffy leaned against the frame, staring at the three inside. "This I'd like to hear." ~~~~~  
  
Willow stood, her eyes still as wide as saucers. "Oz. you. you're back. When? Why?" She stuttered. Tara watched her, torn between curiosity and jealousy. It had been a long time since she didn't know what was going on in her lover's mind.  
  
Oz came slowly into the living room, scanning the occupants as if the entire world had changed in the time he had been gone. It had and it hadn't. Everyone was a little older, a little more. settled. But they looked the same. Willow was just as cute as she always had been. Xander still had the same goofy charm, even if he had picked up a few pounds.  
  
He looked at the quiet, pretty girl sitting on the floor watching Willow. That was her. Oz hadn't had much of a chance to notice her the first time they met, what with the sudden bloodlust. Hopefully, the forgiving nature that they had seemed to extend to Spike might flow his way as well. Willow had always had good taste, Oz mused. The shy one turned to look at him, desperation and a tinge of anger in her pretty eyes. "Spike found me. He needed some help with some. stuff. I figured, hey, nothing better to do. Why not cruise back to Sunny Hell for the holidays," Oz answered, watching Tara's face relax just a bit. "I really hope you don't mind."  
  
"No," Willow said quickly. She turned again looking at Tara. "No," she said again softly. "Um, Oz."  
  
Oz looked at her compassionately. "Spike filled me in," he began again, nodding. "This must be Tara. Sorry our last meeting wasn't quite. um, you know, civil."  
  
He extended his hand toward the woman and she rose to her feet, long skirt brushing against her ankles gracefully. "H.Hi. No. no problem. I. I understand."  
  
"Hi," Oz answered a charming smile on his face. 'It's nice to formally meet you. You're as lovely as Spike said."  
  
"Spike said she was lovely?" Willow asked, furrowing her brow.  
  
Oz chuckled. "In a completely Buffy-whipped sort of way," he answered, making both women smile.  
  
Xander cleared his throat, bringing their attention back to him and breaking the awkward moment. "Lot's changed since you've been gone, Oz."  
  
"So I've heard," Oz commented, looking down at the couch. "Pretty baby," he said, leaning down to stroke the girl's cheek.  
  
"This is my wife, Takina," Xander began. The beautiful woman wedged a hand free from under the baby and found Oz's.  
  
"Nice to meet you," she said, her full red lips spreading into a warm smile. Oz couldn't help but notice how incredibly pretty she was. Xander had done well for himself. "This is our daughter River," she continued.  
  
"Wow," Oz joked. "Who'd a thought you could have such a pretty kid?"  
  
Xander punched his arm, chuckling. "Got lucky."  
  
"Seems so," the wolf answered, scanning the room again. "Heard there is a lot of the reproducing thing going around."  
  
"Really," Willow sighed, happy that all of her friends had settled into family life, but acutely aware of the fact that it was the one thing missing from her relationship with Tara. "Have you seen Buffy's kids yet? I think they're downstairs with Dawn. um, Buffy's kid sister. Not sure if. nevermind." Tara settled back down on the floor in front of the couch.  
  
Oz shook his head, a look of confused wonder on his face. "I just. ya know, I'm having a lot of trouble with the whole Buffy has kids, bit."  
  
"It's the 'with Spike' part that got me," Xander added, smiling ruefully.  
  
"What's up with that?" Oz asked, settling into the arm chair. Xander flopped back down on the couch. Willow stood a minute longer while the shock died down, and then lowered herself next to Tara, taking her hand.  
  
"Spike has. Spike has changed," Willow answered. "A lot."  
  
"No more blood-sucking, evil, Big Bad?" The Werewolf asked, a smile breaking on his face. Tara giggled.  
  
"More like diaper changing, dog walking, evil fighting, handyman," Xander answered, hating to admit it. Even if he managed to get along with Spike, even *like* him sometimes, there would always be room for condescending humour. It's what made their relationship bearable.  
  
"He's really nice," Tara said softly. "And he loves Buffy. And. and their kids."  
  
Oz nodded. "I got that impression," he said, reflecting Tara's softness. "He told me about them for about an hour when he called for help with his present. I can't believe they have a five year old. Wow. Weird."  
  
"You're telling me," Xander said. "So, just in town for the old Spikey surprise and a little holiday visit, or do you have other plans?"  
  
A sly smile broke on Oz's face. "I think I may stay a little while. We'll see." He looked at Willow and her lover, watching the way they held hands. The gentleness that surrounded them both. It was nice. Comforting. "Seems I may be of assistance here." ~~~~~  
  
"So," Buffy asked, walking the rest of the way into the kitchen. Giles backed against the wall, out of her way. Anya smiled smugly. Didn't matter how, she just wanted an answer.  
  
Spike looked at Buffy a moment, tiny frame still managing to be imposing as she walked towards him. "Pet, I think you'll approve of what I have to propose."  
  
Buffy stopped, smirking. "Your plans. not of the good."  
  
"This one is not that bad," Giles interjected, trying to save Spike from the third degree. The glance Buffy shot his way was enough to convince him that Spike was a full grown. Vampire and could handle himself.  
  
"Spill," Buffy continued, reaching her target. As she stared him down, she took his burnt hand into hers, unwrapping the cloth and sizing up the wound. Second degree. Nice blisters. She reached into the cabinet next to her and grabbed some antiseptic and gauze, tending to the burn as she stared at him angrily. Spike had to smile. Girl was full of dichotomies. With one hand she'd kill you and the other she'd save your life.  
  
"Right then," Spike said, watching her eyes as she worked on his hand. "The birds have a little problem."  
  
"What problem?" Anya interrupted, backing up against Giles and feeling his arms wrap around her waist. She sighed, instantly becoming docile at his touch. Another one full of opposites. No wonder they got along so well now.  
  
Buffy taped gauze over his hand. "Not sure I follow," she said, stowing the first aid supplies and hopping onto the counter. Spike turned towards her, positioning himself between her knees, his hands absently stroking over the outer parts of her thighs. Even that made Giles blush. Made Anya want to find a room.  
  
"Look around you, Pet. What does everyone have that they don't?" Spike asked, watching the wheels working in Buffy's head. Feeling her mind inside his, searching for the answer.  
  
A light bulb went off. Slayer was quick, Spike thought. "Kids?" She gasped.  
  
He nodded. "Cupie doll to the prettiest girl in the house," Spike joked, letting his lips brush her fingertips.  
  
"Hey!" Anya exclaimed, offended. She stomped her foot. "What am I, chopped liver?"  
  
"Darling, it's all relative," Giles comforted, squeezing her tighter to him. "Personally, although it would be quite a close contest and such things matter not to."  
  
"Shut up, Rupert," Spike complained, turning back towards Buffy. "We both know that they want to have a family. Think they'd be good at it, really. Also know that they'd rather have their own lot than adopt."  
  
Buffy followed him with her eyes, part of her agreeing and part of her really concerned that what he had in mind might backfire painfully. "Takina has talked to them about artificial.. Spike, I don't know."  
  
"What fun is that?" He asked, mostly serious but partly just to get a rise from her. As if on cue, Buffy slapped his shoulder, a grin spreading across her face. "Might as well get the package deal," he continued, warranting another swat. That one hurt a bit more.  
  
She sat on the counter, lost in thought. It really *wasn't* a terrible idea, but Willow had changed quite a bit since then. Ok, completely. "Spike, you know that she, those they."  
  
"Not big on the penis," Anya interjected. Giles gasped, almost involuntarily. Would have thought he'd have been used to that by now, Spike thought. "I mean, not everyone likes the penis. Personally, I am quite fond of."  
  
"Anya," Giles said, obviously forcing himself to be calm. "Please don't say penis again."  
  
"But the point stands," Buffy commented. "Or the tip."  
  
Spike chuckled at her little joke, kissing her chin. "S'up to them, Love. But I thought, of anyone, they'd be most comfortable with him. If not, then maybe he can just supply a little donation."  
  
"What makes you think *they* would want him to be the father?" Buffy asked, tilting her head to study her lover.  
  
He sighed. "Well, you know them better than I, Pet, but it seems to me, they'd want him to be someone they know. Not like they've really expanded their circle of friends above the age of five since your cheerleader days. Don't think Takina'd been too fond of Xander offering his services and didn't think you'd love the idea of me offering mine, not to mention that there's no guarantee it would work. What with the whole prophesied One bit. Think I'm only meant for you."  
  
She grinned, letting her knees hug against his sides. "No Spike services. No service of Spike. No." Buffy chanted, wagging her head. "There will be no Vampire loaning program."  
  
"What about Rupie? He has sperm," Anya contributed, turning her head to look up at her mate.  
  
His eyes grew wide and embarrassed. "Anya?"  
  
"What?" She whined, studying him. "Randy's a healthy, studly little guy."  
  
Buffy had to giggle at that one. Spike just watched in amusement. Always fun to watch the Watcher get his knickers in a twist. "It would be. wrong. She. she's like a daughter to me."  
  
"It is kind of. ewww," Buffy said, crinkling her nose. "Sorry, Giles."  
  
"No apology needed," he corrected, looking at her briefly before turning his gaze back to Anya. "That is not an option."  
  
Anya sighed. "Fine, fine. More sperm for me."  
  
Spike had to turn away to avoid giggling like a kid. Buffy bit her lip to stop chuckling. "I mean, I guess we could talk to them about it. Or get them to talk. But, I mean. isn't this kind of sticking our nose in where it doesn't belong?" Buffy asked, catching Spike's gaze in hers.  
  
"Suppose so, Pet," Spike answered, sighing again. "Just know that's what they want. They've been talking bout it since Emma. Thought maybe it was time for someone to nudge them in the right direction, is all. Up to them. Completely. But I thought."  
  
Buffy looked at him, watching his face. He really was trying to help them. It was thoughtful, and sweet, even if it was a little boundary pushing. It wasn't like he was forcing them. Just giving them another option. Not really *that* bad an idea. Softly, she smiled. "It was a good thought, Spike," she whispered, raising his chin so that his eyes met hers. His were soft, gentle, and full of love.  
  
"Just want them to be as happy as we are," he said quietly. Then, realizing what a giant sap he had become in front of others, he corrected himself. "With the demon killing and fighting on the side of the right and protecting and grr.," Spike growled.  
  
Buffy chuckled. "I'll help you talk to them later. But we have to leave it to them. No pushing."  
  
"Hadn't planned to, Pet," he answered, his voice becoming soft again, his mouth brushing hers.  
  
"Can I be sick?" Dawn asked, coming into the kitchen, a niece and nephew clinging to each leg and Randy balanced on her hip. "When's dinner? The brats are whining."  
  
"And here I thought it was your job," Buffy joked, jumping off the counter. "Round 'em up. We're ready."  
  
To be contd. 


	5. Between Us

Good evening, All.  
  
Well, I made it. I was hoping to supply a chapter either yesterday or today and I am squeaking in under my own deadline! YAY! I should also have another out this weekend, provided everything stays quiet.  
  
The plot is beginning to thicken. Many of you have emailed me with ideas about our mystery woman, but guess what? I won't tell ya! You'll figure it out soon enough. ::: insert evil grin:::  
  
Thanks so much for all the feedback. It has helped me more than you know. Please keep it coming; otherwise I have no idea if I am giving you both what you want and what you need.  
  
Enjoy the chapter and expect another before the weekend is out.  
  
Thanks!!!  
  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
  
  
  
Title: Between Us (Chapter Five of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Christmas dinner at the Windsor's is winding down, but there are a few things left to discuss. Buffy and Spike find a moment to sit down and launch Spike's well-meaning plan. The others decide to leave them to it. A visitor comes to Sunnydale, but what are her intentions? Are they voluntary? Spike and Buffy coerce Dawn into staying with the kids while they patrol, but this might be another long night.  
  
Between Us  
  
"And that, my friends, was an excellent meal," Xander sighed, leaning back into his chair and pushing an empty pie plate out in front of him. Takina laughed, patting his belly with one hand.  
  
"Looks like one you're going to pay for," Takina smiled. Xander groaned. She'd been forcing him to go the gym. If he was going to fight demons with Buffy, he needed to be fit. More than that, she loved him and didn't want him to have a heart attack at forty. Xander looked at her and smiled, draping his arm over the back of her chair.  
  
"All right. Forty lashes on the treadmill," he agreed, making her pretty smile broader.  
  
"Now that's love," Oz commented.  
  
Buffy scanned the table. "Anyone for seconds? Uh, I mean, thirds? Or fifths or something?" She collected empty plates, Spike standing immediately to help her out.  
  
"Couldn't eat another bite," Giles moaned, leaning back. "It was wonderful, dear," he commented to Anya.  
  
Anya smiled brightly. "Spike did most of it, but thanks."  
  
Oz shot a glance. "He cooks too? What happened to you, man?" The wolf's face was torn between shock and pleased amusement.  
  
Buffy shot a look at Spike. Spike had this odd mix of embarrassment and pride in his eyes. She decided to answer for him. "Necessity. I . well, I ."  
  
"She burns macaroni," Dawn contributed. "And I'm not much better. So, if they want Will and Emma to grow up on something more good for them than cereal and hot dogs, Spike had to step up."  
  
"Dude," Oz chuckled. "Anything you don't do?"  
  
Spike thought for a moment, searching for the proper remark. "Not that I can think of."  
  
Buffy had to laugh. "Um, hello, black jeans all over the floor. Oh, and let's talk fashion sense. You have barely changed your style since Billy Idol. That was what, like when I was three? And how about the whole."  
  
Spike silenced her by pressing his lips against hers, feeling her melt under the touch of his skin to hers. She stood, barely holding onto the stack of plates in her hand. As he pulled away, he grinned. "S'quite enough from you, Pet. Or have you changed your mind about dessert?"  
  
Buffy looked at him for a second, blinking. She knew either way she'd get whatever she wanted, but she wanted this badly. Last night had set a fire in her again. Not that it ever really went anywhere. But she couldn't get enough. "Ummm, sundaes," she hummed.  
  
"Then be nice, Love." A wicked grin broke on his face as he took the stack of plates from her and sauntered away, his walk as delicious as the rest of him.  
  
Buffy turned back to the table, flushed. "Plates?"  
  
~~~~~  
  
  
  
Buffy sat at the table. Her body was tense, nervous, one hand wrapped around a mug of cocoa and one wrapped in Spike's, laying across his thigh. This was a conversation they had decided to have in relative privacy. Takina and Xander had to leave, as they needed to visit Takina's sister's family. It hadn't even occurred to Buffy that she might have a family. It didn't seem that the rest of the . non-humans of the bunch still did. But then again, nothing should really surprise Buffy about the humanity of certain demons anymore.  
  
Giles, Anya, Dawn and Cyrus had taken the rest of the kids downstairs. Xander and Spike had made a sort of guest room, living room combination in the basement, as they were running out of places to put people. It had a TV and toys, a bed and a bathroom. Actually, Dawn had sort of adopted it as her room so that she didn't have to kick Emma out of the room to which she had grown accustomed. Even on nights like last night, when the basement room was taken, Dawn usually just climbed in with Emma rather than kick her back into the spare bed in Will's room. She was good about that.  
  
Tara and Willow sat directly across from Buffy and Spike, mirroring their positions. Each holding a mug in one hand and each other with the spare. Oz sat at the head of the table, looking at both sets of them awkwardly. He'd been willing to hear Spike out, and thought he owed Willow at least the opportunity to say yes or no on her own before nixing the idea himself. When he'd asked Spike about the possibility of him passing on the wolf, Spike had only laughed. Not a one of the litters was human, he explained. Their own being half vampire. River part demon. Randy the son of a fully activated Vengeance demon. What was a little wolf in their henhouse?  
  
"Wh. What is it you wanted to talk about, Buffy?" Willow asked, her eyes a little nervous. The air was full of tension. Willow automatically assumed something bad was coming. It usually was when Buffy and Spike were all serious and hadn't kissed in at least twenty minutes. The apocalypse must be coming. again.  
  
"Um," Buffy began. "I. I'm not sure where to start."  
  
"Want me to give it a go, Pet? Not fair you get stuck 'splaining my idea," Spike interrupted, squeezing her hand. Buffy looked him, her eyes nervous and unsure. Slowly, she nodded.  
  
"Your idea, Spike?" Tara asked. She'd always trusted the Vampire. Even before Buffy had. But his plans were not always the best thought out.  
  
"Yeah," Spike answered softly, turning his attention to the two women across the table. "And you don't have to do a thing about it. Wanna make that clear up front. Just trying to help, is all."  
  
Willow studied him for a moment, concern watching her features. "What idea, Spike? What's wrong?"  
  
"No. Nothing's wrong," Buffy interjected. "Actually, it's not. it's one of his better plans."  
  
Spike smirked at her, nodding his head. "And I am ever so grateful for the ringing endorsement, Pet," he quipped.  
  
"Look," Oz sighed, getting the attention of the whole group. "Any way you put this, it's going to be awkward up front. But I wouldn't have come here if I didn't think that Spike was trying to help. I'd have no reason to think you'd want me around. And maybe you don't. But, Will, I owe it to you. and to Tara. to at least give you that option."  
  
"What option?" Willow said, swinging her gaze back to Spike.  
  
Spike shifted in his chair. For all his bravado and ability to melt small Slayers in a single kiss, he was uncomfortable talking about this. Still, he took a breath and began. "Know you've been pining over the fact that . Well. since Buffy and I had Emma, you've been talking about."  
  
"Kids," Buffy completed, trying to bail him out. Really, she was no more comfortable, but it wasn't quite right to leave him foundering. Kind of like watching him get his butt kicked. Fun on one level, but she could only let it go on so long.  
  
"Not sure I understand," Tara said, her voice soft. Her gaze flitted between Buffy and Spike and Oz and Willow like a butterfly searching for the right petal.  
  
Spike sighed again, searching for the words. "What I had thought, and I know that I'm sticking my nose in where it doesn't belong, but you birds have done a lot to help Buffy and me. I guess." He paused, regaining his thought. "Don't want to see you feeling like you're missing out. If you want something, go for it. Least that's always been my theory."  
  
Buffy chuckled, squeezing Spike's fingers. "Uh, that's an understatement."  
  
He smirked at his love again before turning back to the girls. "What I'm trying to say is that while I was talking to Oz here about helping me out with Buffy's Christmas present, I got to thinking that you might. this might be. an. option for you."  
  
"An option?" Willow asked, furrowing her brow and staring at the Vampire. Suddenly, a light bulb went off and her face flushed, her cheeks turning as red as her hair. Tara watched her, catching on a moment later.  
  
"You. you think that." Willow stuttered. "That I? That we?"  
  
"Nothing as presumptuous as that, Pet," Spike answered. "What you do or don't do is none of Buffy's and my business. But I know you want a tot. And I know that you'd rather produce your own rather than adopt, if possible. And I know that you'd rather it be with someone you know. Someone you trust. Since Harris is a bit out of the picture now, not that I can understand why anyone would want to reproduce with that git."  
  
Buffy nudged him hard enough with her knee that he nearly toppled off the chair. "And as annoying as he can be, I kinda like Spike all to myself. And Giles."  
  
"Ewwwww," Willow groaned. "No. no. ewwww. Spare me the visual."  
  
Spike recovered his balance. "So, I thought that Oz might be another option for you, is all. Handle it anyway you like."  
  
"Spike, if you haven't noticed, we sort of. Gay now," Willow retorted, trying to wrap her mind around this. Anger was the first thing she felt. Anger that they would intrude on their lives. But in a way, Spike was right. They needed to fish or cut bait. They wanted a child of their own, but hadn't ever really discussed it. Just always got too. squicky.  
  
"We don't have to sleep together," Oz said quietly. "I don't want either of you to be uncomfortable. I mean, I'm not here to get in between the two of you."  
  
It took a second for that one to settle in before Spike had to bite his lip to avoid chuckling. He turned his face away, only to see Buffy with her eyes squeezed shut and her teeth firmly buried in her bottom lip, trying not to laugh at an inappropriate and inadvertent joke. But when a soft, lyrical giggle rose up from the other side of the table, they couldn't stop. It had surprised Spike at first that it was Tara that had found the remark too funny to resist, but he was glad it had broken the tension. Before long, all five of them were laughing so hard that tears were streaming down their faces. It hadn't been *that* funny. But it had served to release some of the tension in the air.  
  
"I really didn't mean it that way," Oz muttered over the laughter. He wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. "All I meant was that there are other ways to go about it. I mean, if you are even serious about this. If you even want. me.involved."  
  
The laughter died down as he returned the conversation to the point, but the mood was a little lighter now. Buffy was curled in a ball on the chair, her head resting on Spike's shoulder, his arm wrapped around her, stroking her hair. Tara and Willow were both more relaxed, realizing that the conversation was not world ending. Even if it might change their lives. Oz was taking it all in stride, even if it was sort of an odd thing to be thrust upon him from out of the blue. But he and Willow had meant a lot to each other once. If he could do her this favour and repay half the hurt he had caused her, then it was good for him too.  
  
Tara was the one to finally speak. "Oz, I think it's . nice . what you are offering to do. Um," she paused, looking at Spike, and then over at Willow. "It's really. I know that you are trying to help, and I'm not saying no. But I'd like to talk about this with Willow. In private. Is... Is that okay?"  
  
Buffy furrowed her brow, looking over at Tara. "Of course, that's okay. Nobody expects you to just up and make a decision like *now*. And ... and don't feel like you have to... you don't have to explain, whatever you decide. But I think they were just trying . it was a good thought," she finished, looking up at Spike.  
  
He kissed her forehead gently, and then regarded Willow and Tara with soft eyes. "I honestly didn't mean to intrude," he said in his most polite manner. It always amused Buffy that he had two such vastly different sides. "But if I hadn't at least asked, I would have felt like I'd. let you down or something."  
  
Willow watched him for a moment, still a little put off that Spike and Oz had discussed what she and Tara needed behind their backs. But part of her knew that Spike meant well. Tara was just soft, like she always had been. The anger was not there for her. Regardless of what they decided, she could only see the good intentions behind Spike's idea, and the kindness behind Oz's offer. It was just her nature to see the good side of things.  
  
"Daddy, daddy, come look! Uncle Giles showed me how to make paper hats!" Emma's voice squeaked as her footsteps thundered up the stairs. She tore around the corner from the kitchen and nearly tackled her father in his chair, wrapping her little arms around his neck. A small pirate hat made of construction paper bounced off her head and onto Buffy's lap. "Will you come see?"  
  
Spike chuckled, retrieving her hat and putting it back on Emma's head, kissing her temple softly. "A' course," he answered her brightly. "Gone from princess to pirate, have we?"  
  
"Unhunh," Emma nodded, looking around the table. She'd been quiet at dinner. Now she was in full Emma mode, which meant she would crash hard in about an hour. Bully for them, Buffy thought.  
  
Emma regarded Oz for a moment. She had stared at him on and off through dinner, but now she really looked at him as if she was searching for a word. "He's a wolf," she said, pointing her little finger. He cocked his head, a smile breaking on his face. Emma turned her head, looking at the stunned expression on Buffy's face.  
  
"Yes, Emma," Spike said, picking her up. "But he's ..."  
  
"A good wolf?" She asked, her arms wrapping around his neck again.  
  
"Less the moon's full. You remember what the moon looks like when it's full?" Spike asked, brushing the little girl's ringlets off her face.  
  
"Like a pearl," she answered, smiling. "And the stars are diamonds. But none are as pretty as mommy," Emma completed, kissing her father's cheek.  
  
"Or you, Mite," Spike finished, starting out the door. Buffy watched, shaking her head in amusement. "Coming, Love?" Spike asked, looking over his shoulder at his world.  
  
Buffy sighed, standing. "See ya," she said at the table. "Come down when you feel like it." She turned back towards the doorway and caught up with Spike. "Did you really tell her that? About the sky?"  
  
"Only told her the truth, Pet," Spike answered, wrapping his free arm around Buffy's waist.  
  
~~~~~  
  
The woman awoke, curled in a ball. It was dark outside now. And the place was different. Not as awful. Not as dank and dark and horrible. She looked around, smelling the grass. It was cold outside, but she barely felt it. After the sweltering heat of the dungeon, the cold was welcome.  
  
She sat, pulling the white cloak around her and trying to get her bearings. There was something familiar about the place. Something she felt she should know, but she couldn't place. In front of her was a playground with a sandbox and a jungle gym and swings. Around her were trees. To her side was a big, brick building. Maybe a school? It didn't seem familiar.  
  
The woman didn't feel like herself. Like she was numb to the core. In a daze. Dead. That made sense. She was dead. She knew that. But the world around her was alive. Didn't matter. She was so cold and so numb and she couldn't bother feeling anything but lost.  
  
A glow captured her attention. It was really rather a small glow, but it nearly burnt her skin. Slowly, she lifted her hand, regarding a small silver dragon. It glowed a strange red, in startling contrast to the white of her cloak and the gown she wore underneath of it. Like blood. Blood. It's always about the blood.  
  
The glow, the dragon tugged at her. Somewhere, she knew she shouldn't go. If she didn't follow the dragon, everything would be all right. But it was strong. Pulling at her wrist. She looked inside herself for the will to fight it, but it seemed like her insides were gone. Just empty. The glow pulled her to her feet, pushing her in staggered steps towards the sidewalk.  
  
It occurred to her as she walked where the dragon was leading her. Home. A part of her screamed that she couldn't go there. She couldn't go home again. She'd been given her chance to live in this world and it had been revoked. Eternally. Going home was bad. Going home would upset the balance. But her body wouldn't listen. It took slow, unsteady steps, leading her back to where she once belonged.  
  
She didn't belong anymore.  
  
~~~~~  
  
"It's getting late," Buffy said, eyeing Spike stretched out on the couch watching the Charlie Brown Christmas with Will curled in front of him. Will was snoring. It was actually kind of cute. The little boy had fought sleep with all his might, but once his father stretched out beside him, Will had crumbled into a limp noodle and passed out like a little drunk, pressed to Spike's chest.  
  
"That it is, Pet," Spike responded, his voice hushed. Anya and Giles had left an hour or so before. Dawn was sitting on the recliner that had once been in Emma's room, brushing her niece's hair and generally fussing over the girl.  
  
"Don't tell me, let me guess, 'Dawn, will you watch the kids, because you have no life and me and Spike want to go fight evil when really all we're going to do is." The girl began, smirking at her sister.  
  
"That's enough," Buffy snapped half-heartedly. "Would you watch the kids while we patrol? I promise that if you do, then we will get someone else to do it the next few nights while you go out with that little boyfriend of yours."  
  
"Boyfriend?" Spike asked, sitting up and raising an eyebrow at Dawn. "What's this about?"  
  
Buffy smiled, getting back at her sister. "Dawn's got a boyfriend," she teased.  
  
"Not without bringing him round here," Spike growled, looking at the two women as if he'd been betrayed. "Planning on telling me at any point, Niblet?"  
  
"Spike," Dawn sighed. "I'm almost twenty. I'm in college. I can date."  
  
"Never said you couldn't," Spike shot back. "But the men in this town are menaces. Gotta be careful."  
  
"Oh, and I bet Buffy never dated anyone," Dawn retorted. "And mom didn't ask about them."  
  
Buffy blushed. "She did, but I just didn't answer," her sister countered. "Spike's right, though. I mean, you've been dating him for a while now. Isn't it about time you brought him over?"  
  
Dawn flopped back in the recliner. "Argh. You guys are horrible. Maybe he's not ready for the whole Meet the Parents bit."  
  
"We're *not* your parents," Buffy complained. "But we are your family."  
  
"And how do I know that Spike won't go all fangy grr on him," Dawn asked, her face a mixture of fear and aggravation.  
  
"You know he does a pretty good human impression," Buffy answered, trapped in her conversation with Dawn.  
  
"I'm right bloody here," Spike snapped. "And I'm not your sodding father. Taken care of you better than that, Pet. So, don't think it's too much to ask for you to bring the bloke by for an inspection."  
  
Dawn sighed. He was right. Officially, he was her brother in law. But effectually, he and Buffy had raised her. At least when it was important. And she knew he was a little hurt that she didn't tell him. But this guy. This one was. special. Dawn wasn't quite sure if she was ready to tell him about her sister being the Slayer and her brother in law being a Vampire and their daughter being a chosen saviour. It was all... a bombshell. But now's as good a time as any.  
  
"All right. I'll bring him over before break ends. But *please* don't act all save the world-y around him," Dawn sighed. "Oh, and don't make out in front of him. *Normal* old married people don't do that."  
  
Spike stood, tugging Buffy up with him and immediately pulling her against him for a kiss. "Like that," Dawn sighed. "You people need to get a clue on what the whole grown up thing is like."  
  
"Jealous?" Buffy asked, trapped in Spike's eyes, studying his features and tracing him over and over in her mind.  
  
Dawn was caught there. She didn't think it was possible to ever find what Buffy had. "Would you just go already? And remember, you owe me one."  
  
"Right, Niblet," Spike answered, taking Buffy's hand and leading her to the stairs. "As for you," he continued, catching Buffy's chin with his fingers, "I think we need to make a stop at the fridge on the way out, Pet."  
  
Buffy's tongue shot out, licking her lips sensually. "Yummy."  
  
"Would ya just be gone?" Dawn whined, turning up the TV.  
  
"Be back in a little while," Buffy said over her shoulder as she followed Spike up the stairs.  
  
"I won't wait up."  
  
  
  
To be contd. 


	6. Et Tu, Brute?

Good afternoon, All.  
  
I hope you are all having a nice weekend. Got a bit of snow here. Would be pretty if it weren't so cold!  
  
Well, I did manage to get another chapter out this weekend. I do hope you enjoy it and hope you will let me know what you think. I plan to have the next chapter out on Wednesday as there is a new episode on Tuesday and I'm quite sure we'll be all wrapped up in that until then!  
  
Again, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please let me know what you think and review it if you can. It truly helps me to know that you like the story. Makes the muse all warm and fuzzy!  
  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
  
  
  
Title: Et Tu, Brute? (Chapter Six of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Willow and Tara discuss Oz's proposition. Buffy and Spike go on patrol and something unusual happens. The mystery woman is involved, but how? Why?  
  
Et Tu, Brute?  
  
  
  
"I can't believe that *Spike* thought that.Argh." Willow muttered as she unlocked their apartment door. "I mean, so none of his business. And Buffy. Buffy wouldn't have ever agreed to this if Spike hadn't. He's such a bad influence." The door squeaked open and Willow walked into the entryway, Tara following silently on her heels. Willow had vented about eighty distinct emotions on the way home as she wrapped her mind around the proposal on the table. But most of the confusion had been disguised as anger at Spike.  
  
"Do.Do you really think that? That Spike is a bad influence?" Tara asked, disguising a shy smile.  
  
Willow stopped, tossing her keys on the table and peeling off her coat, hanging it on a hook. "Well, not a *bad* influence." She paused a moment more. Spike had been the glue that had kept them all together in the last few years. And definitely the armour that had kept Buffy alive. Not to mention, multi-purpose handyman, shoulder to sob on, baby-sitter, daddy, and husband of the year. He fought with Buffy, pretty regularly, but he never held a grudge. He never let even her most venomous attacks change what he felt about her or their life. Even when she was in full bitca mode, he'd toss a barb at her, turn on a booted heel, take off into the night with that lummox of a dog and come back with a dozen roses and kisses for his woman. Okay, he wasn't a bad influence.  
  
"No," Willow sighed, flopping down on the couch. Tara settled down next to her. "I guess not. I mean.Just.where does he get off sticking his nose into our personal lives?"  
  
Tara's eyes flickered to the floor. "Well, we talk to him, Will. I mean, we've both talked to him. Probably me more than you. But we're the ones that told him that we were having a hard time with."  
  
Willow turned, looking at Tara. "With the decision."  
  
Tara nodded. "Right. And you know how Spike is." A grin spread across her face. "He's not big on the whole debate until the end of time way of dealing. He.he found an answer. I mean, I.I guess we should have known when we talked to him that he would do it.sooner or later."  
  
"But we weren't asking for *help*!" Willow whined. "Venting. It's about the venting."  
  
Tara chuckled. "Women vent just to vent. Men vent to solve problems. He's a guy. To him, problem solved."  
  
The redhead had to chuckle at that. "So not in like of those man-ways." She looked at Tara and watched her face soften. How much she loved the girl was.unquantifiable. Tara was her world. Her everything. The look on Tara's face, though, was unreadable. "What.whatcha thinking?"  
  
Tara stared back at Willow, suddenly confident. "I.I think that Spike helped us. I.I think I'm glad."  
  
It took a second for that to register in Willow's mind. "You...you mean you.want to do this?"  
  
"I think," Tara began, "I. I think we need to think about this. I.Spike.I think he's right. I mean, we both obviously want our own baby. And there's no reason why we shouldn't. Out of all of them, we've been together the longest."  
  
It hadn't occurred to Willow that her relationship with Tara had predated even Buffy and Spike. It had been too long to remember orders at this point. And what with the whole One thing, it was like Buffy and Spike had been together for eternity. But in this life, Tara and Willow had been happily together since even before that. "Yeah," Willow smiled. "We have."  
  
"And we know we're not going anywhere. I think.I think we're happy here," Tara continued, leaning forward and softly kissing her lover's cheek.  
  
Willow smiled, feeling the brush of silk to her skin. "I know that."  
  
Tara's face was still so close to Willow. Her breath blew softly on Willow's soft skin. "And Spike was right. We would rather have our own. We've both said that. And we.well, we can't quite do that .you know.like we are."  
  
The feelings of confusion were mixing with the soft, warm feelings of desire as Tara's gentle mouth caressed her cheek, her ear. "No. One of the few things we *can't* do."  
  
"We can't," Tara agreed, rocking back and smiling gently at Willow. "And neither of us liked the idea of going to the hospital and taking what we get. I mean there's nothing.there's nothing wrong with that. But in Sunnydale, who knows.I mean, a high school drop out with bad skin is the least of our concerns."  
  
A picture of Clem flitted through Willow's mind, tearing her between a giggle and running for her life. "Agreed. So, not wanting the anonymous donor in Sunnydale."  
  
"And, well, Spike...he was right. It's not like any of us have a lot of outside friends anymore. I mean, you have your friends at the hospital. And I know some people at the school. But. but no one we'd want."  
  
"To have a baby with," Willow sighed, slumping into the couch. "I...ugh.I don't want to be talking about this."  
  
Tara put her hand gently on the side of her lover's face, turning it towards her. "We have to."  
  
The redhead sighed. "I know, baby. It's just. "  
  
"Uncomfortable?"  
  
"Yeah," Willow answered. Tara always could read her mind. "I mean, it just seems.I don't know."  
  
"Do you want a child of our own?" Tara asked, making sure this wasn't Willow's way of backing out. She didn't think it was, but felt like she owed her the opportunity to change her mind.  
  
"Yes! Of course I do," Willow answered, taking Tara's hand again. "I.I just am not liking the detail part."  
  
Tara sighed, "Well, I think once we make a decision, then maybe it will all be.less to deal with."  
  
"Until the throwing up and the mood swings and the cravings and the.." Willow stuttered.  
  
Tara smiled softly. "You're scared."  
  
"Am not," Willow answered, furrowing her brow. "I'm .I can.Oh, fine, yes."  
  
"Me too. But look, Buffy and Anya and Takina all made it. And except for William, none of them even had that hard a time. I mean, you'd think Anya was happier being pregnant than not."  
  
"Anya also gutted people for a living. Her tastes, not good," Willow answered, chuckling.  
  
Tara blushed a little. "And...And it doesn't have to be you. I mean.I would.I kind of want to know."  
  
The implications of that were astounding to Willow. "But I thought you didn't want to go with the hospital and the turkey baster of love?" She stuttered. "I mean, unless we have to."  
  
"I don't," Tara answered. "And don't get upset, I don't plan on going all.straight...on you now."  
  
"Then... then what?" Willow asked. "I mean, right now, we have limited men in our lives. And all of them are taken. Except.Except Oz."  
  
Tara nodded. "Right. And you loved him once. You .you even."  
  
She stopped, not able to complete the thought. Willow squeezed her hand. "I did. I mean, yeah, but it was a long time ago and so not feeling that way anymore."  
  
"But he is a good option. I mean, it's not like the wolf thing matters. In fact, it would probably help. And entire generation of Scoobies with enhanced strength and healing and." Tara reasoned.  
  
"And fur!" Willow joked.  
  
Tara smiled. "I think it's a good plan. We just have to decide if it's what we want and if it is, we need to decide how. And .and who."  
  
Willow thought for a long moment, her eyes searching the floor. "I don't.I don't want to just.I dunno. I don't want to be with anyone without you there. And it's not like a spectator thing... and...Unless.."  
  
Tara looked up, eyes saucer wide. "You think?"  
  
Willow smiled, "It might just work."  
  
The woman stopped at the edge of the sidewalk, under the shadowy cover of trees. This place, this place was more familiar. It was dark, and cold, but familiar. The stones. She knew them. And the buildings. She knew them too. She'd stayed in one. And she was put under one of the stones.  
  
Footsteps echoed in the crystal clear winter air, clacking along the sidewalk. Two sets. One heavier than the other. Murmurs and giggles drifted like mist. The low base purr of a man. The higher, lyrical sweetness of a young woman. She backed under the trees and out of the line of sight of the sidewalk.  
  
A couple walked towards her, and then veered off through the gate towards the stones. They were holding hands. Something about them was so familiar. It tugged at her dead heart. Her mind searched the emptiness for the answer, but they had taken her mind away. Or at least the part that remembered and felt. She couldn't see them enough to tell for sure. But the way they walked, hand in hand was making her lonely. The way that he looked down at her with eyes that could hold nothing but love. And the way she smiled back. Home.  
  
The glow on her wrist became intense. It was burning her. She shook her arm as if to quell the rising flame, but it wouldn't stop. The dragon glowed like a growing ember in a fire and then exploded, a ball of red light escaping. It was the size of a plum. Dancing in front of her, making her eyes hurt and her body want to catch it and take it far away.  
  
It was bad.  
  
The glow hovered in front of her and then took off, blazing at an alarming rate towards the couple. She stepped around the tree to see it, somewhere hoping it would flicker out along the way, but it didn't. It found the man from behind, passing through his chest, his heart, like an airborne dagger, and then circled like lightning, passing through the girl's from the front.  
  
The couple stopped. The woman waited for them to fall screaming to the ground. But they just looked at each other with furrowed brows, each rubbing a palm to their chest. The girl shrugged. The man moved her hand and looked. He shook his head.  
  
They started to walk again.  
  
  
  
"God, what do you think they're saying," Buffy asked, walking next to Spike along the sidewalk towards the cemetery. "I mean, we sort of just dropped it out there."  
  
He shrugged. "Dunno, Pet. But I imagine they need to suss it out on their own."  
  
"Oh, like they found this solution on their own, because we're so not all about the sticking our noses in," Buffy answered sarcastically.  
  
"Hey! I was doing the birds a service, Love. And without offering myself up for the cause." He smirked. She knew he had *no* intention of being that helpful, but he also knew that she'd become quite the possessive one and even the thought would put a twist in her pretty knickers.  
  
"I told you before, no Vampire Loaning Program," Buffy huffed. He wrapped his hand around hers, squeezing it.  
  
"Wouldn't be able to anyway, Pet."  
  
Buffy furrowed a brow. "What? I mean, you're kinda.able."  
  
"Kind of?" Spike gasped insulted. He opened his jacket a little, giving her a glimpse of the can of Ready Whip. "Kind of able?"  
  
Buffy shuddered with delight. "Okay, you're able. You're more than able. You're a regular able bodied seaman." She stopped, thinking for a moment. "Okay, that came out wrong."  
  
Spike chuckled. "Just don't want you getting all disappointed in old Spike," he answered. "Means I have to teach you something new again."  
  
"Teach me!" Buffy gasped, giggling. "I mean, I think I .after these last few...you can't possibly have."She stopped, watching the cat ate the canary grin on his face. Her voice became soft and amazed. "You mean, there's more?"  
  
"Volumes, Love," he answered, winking.  
  
She thought about that a moment as they rounded the corner into the cemetery. "Really? You're holding out on me?"  
  
He stopped, turning her towards him. "Not holding out. Just pacing ourselves."  
  
A sly smile broke on her face. "Feel like taking a giant leap for man...or Vampire...kind tonight?"  
  
His wicked grin responded. "In the mood for a lesson, are we?"  
  
Her eyes sank closed and a small hum escaped her lips. As they flickered open again, she answered. "Yeah, I think I'm up for that."  
  
Just then, a surprised look crossed his face, and he jerked forward, his hand slapping to his chest. Buffy looked at him a moment, her heart skipping a beat. He looked lost. Afraid. But as she reached forward, a searing pain burned through her ribs, singing her heart and exploding from her back. She felt her palm raise, cupping her hand over her heart, her eyes shocked and afraid as she looked back up at Spike.  
  
His expression had changed. Now he was no longer concerned about what had happened to him, rather, he was terrified that it happened to her. Spike's blue eyes swam in horror as he moved her hand from her chest, looking at her shirt and then pulling that away to expose the soft skin of the top of her breast. No holes. No burns. No marks. Buffy breathed, standing in front of him, none the worse for wear, even if her heart was racing at an alarming pace inside her chest.  
  
"Love, you alright?" He asked, his hand sliding from her heart to cup her cheek.  
  
She shrugged, a bit dazed and nodded. "Yeah, I mean.are you?" He dropped his hand and looked down. She leaned closer to inspect the spot on his perfect chest. "It looks okay."  
  
Her eyes flickered back to his. "What just happened?"  
  
"Dunno, Love." He straightened, pulling her sweater back over her shoulder. "But looks like were none the worse off."  
  
Buffy frowned and then shrugged. "Now, about that lesson."  
  
~~~~~  
  
They made their rounds of the graveyard in record speed. Regardless of what they wanted out of the night, she.no, they.had a duty first. It was silent. Looks like even the Vampire world was staying in on Christmas night.  
  
The mood had lightened as they walked. It became clear that whatever had happened was not the end of the world, nor even the end of them. Probably just a bad case of heartburn from Anya's spicy stuffing. The fact that they both had it at the same time didn't surprise them. Sometimes the connection ran so deep that they could tell when the other one needed a drink of water or wanted to go outside to watch the moon.  
  
She was laughing as he scooped her up, carrying her the last bit towards the crypt. It was still early. They had a lot of time before having to run back home to save Dawn from the smaller demons. His kisses peppered her cheeks, his words igniting fires underneath her skin. Lessons from Spike were like fiery walks in Heaven. Like a little bit of wickedness and a whole lot of wonder. It used to bother her that he'd collected so much knowledge on how to make her body sing, but now all she cared about was the fact that she was the sole benefactor.  
  
As Spike planted a hungry kiss on her swollen lips and lifted his booted foot to kick in the door to his crypt as she had so many nights past, something made him stumble. Her head spun from her comfy perch in his arms. His followed. A pair of Vampires that wanted to play. A wicked grin broke on Buffy's face as he settled her to the ground. A little sparring always got the blood pumping and made her all the more in the mood for Spike's kind of battle. Not that she needed much help with the mood.  
  
"Now, that's just rude," Buffy complained, taking a step towards one of the Vampires. Spike just crossed his arms, watching her with a sly grin on his face. His girl was all the more beautiful when she fought. Graceful and fluid and deadly, her body a perfect dichotomy of frailness and brute strength.  
  
She shot a look back at Spike, warning him to stay back. He would. She preferred to take out the Vamps herself if she could. Didn't bother him to watch her. He knew now when it was time to step in. Until then, he'd kick back and enjoy the show. Not that there'd be much of one. They looked young and stupid. Spike nodded his agreement and Buffy turned back towards the Vampires.  
  
"I cook and clean and raise a family all day long," she complained. "Okay, so I don't cook, but I do spend all day with diapers and toys and Disney movies and I *finally* get a night alone with him and here you are, trying to interrupt. Rude," Buffy continued, stalking towards them. They backed up a bit, partially out of fear, but more because they weren't sure if she was all that sane.  
  
"Buffy?" Spike said softly.  
  
"What?" She growled, turning around.  
  
He raised an eyebrow. "They don't know."  
  
"Know what?" One of the Vampires asked, flicking out a knife and taking a step towards the little blonde.  
  
"That's she's the Slayer, Mate," Spike answered, amused, leaning back against the wall of the crypt. He watched the Vampire's faces go blank. "Should do your research before you come out here flashing knives, you git."  
  
"The Slayer?" The other Vampire gasped. "So you.you're.You're one of us."  
  
Buffy chuckled. "Spike, are you a Vampire?"  
  
Spike chuckled, shaking his head, his game face appearing as if out of thin air. "Shudder, gasp! My secret's out, Pet."  
  
"I had heard there was a Vampire who'd made all nice with the Slayer," the bolder of the two Vampires replied, still standing his ground. The other one looked as if he wanted to run, but was trapped by the fact that he couldn't remember how his feet worked.  
  
Buffy chuckled. "Yeah, we made nice," she answered. "And you're interrupting more nice for me. So put the knife away and I might get all Christmas spirit-y and kill you later."  
  
The bolder one leered at her. "Not on your life. I've always wanted to taste a Slayer."  
  
Spike stiffened, hearing his own ancient thoughts rattle through someone else's lips. Guilt and then anger crashed through him. But Buffy stood her ground. Better just to let them find out what a Slayer really was. He'd make those words up to Buffy somehow. Some day.  
  
The Vampire came closer, the weaker one following. "Go ahead," she seethed. "Try me."  
  
The bold one lunged and she spun out of the way, a stake appearing from the sleeve of her coat. Spike had made her a nifty sheath that could carry two and put them just where she could access them, pushing them into her hands as she flexed her wrist. And she had a back up.  
  
Buffy dropped, rolling away from a clumsy jab and hopped up, in front of the weaker one. Spike leaned back, watching her toy with them. The weak one look terrified for a moment, and then produced a knife of his own, which she promptly knocked from his hand with a spin kick. The Vampire looked startled as her foot made contact with his head, knocking him back into a tombstone, dazed.  
  
She turned back to the bolder Vampire. He grinned wickedly, sizing her up. "You sure you want to do this? I mean, I am feeling charitable and I have better things to do," Buffy reasoned as he ran at her.  
  
"I want to kill you," the unimaginative Vampire hissed, making Spike chuckle.  
  
"At least get some more creative prose, Mate," he quipped from the sidelines. Buffy began to battle him, hand to hand, punching him several times before the knife was knocked loose by another spin kick combination. Poetry in motion, Spike thought, watching her wrist twitch and the stake appear. Spike was too caught up in watching the artfulness of her maneuver to notice the weaker one begin to stir.  
  
Buffy spun again, avoiding a lunging tackle, and caught the bolder one's shoulder, tossing him against a tree. "Don't interrupt my nights out. Spread the word," she said as she jammed the stake into his chest. "Okay, well don't then."  
  
Spike saw a blur out of the corner of his eye. "Buffy, watch out. Behind you."  
  
He began to race towards her, but the weaker one was too close, lunging at her with the knife he found along the way. Spike reached forward, barely missing the jacket of the Vampire. Buffy turned, seeing the Vampire on her and shifted to the right like lightning.  
  
The Vampire didn't miss. But it didn't hit as it wanted either. Her eyes were shocked as her one hand clapped over her side. "I ...I like this shirt," Buffy stuttered, raising her stake and plunging It through the Vampire's heart before dropping to her knees to the ground.  
  
Spike stared at her a moment, his human features returning. He had fallen to the grass as well trying to catch the weaker Vamp. A miscalculation. It hadn't killed her, or even hurt her seriously, but it was too close. He wasn't going to stay out of it anymore. It had been a long time since he'd let her get hurt and he didn't like remembering how it felt.  
  
"Buffy, you alright, Love?" Spike asked, pushing himself to his feet. Her hand cupped over her side and blood trickled down her white blouse. He winced, looking at her.  
  
"Yeah," she answered, still a bit dazed. "Just.it's not bad."  
  
Spike dropped to his knees in front of her, moving her hand and pulling up the tattered remnants of her shirt. There was a gash in her side, but it was fairly shallow. Bled like a paper cut. Lots of blood for what amounted to more of an annoyance wound. But still, he hated to ever see her with even a bruise.  
  
He straightened again, staring down at her. "Pet, you alright?"  
  
Buffy looked confused a moment, her eyes flickering down the length of his torso. "He...he got you too?"  
  
"No, Love, I was standing over there," he answered, his head nodding towards the crypt entrance.  
  
Buffy's brow furrowed, her hand sliding down his side. She reached the same spot on his body that would have marked her wound. Her hand felt sticky. She pulled it away and looked at her fingers, raising them in front of him. Blood. They were covered in blood.  
  
"Spike?"  
  
A confused look crossed his face and he tugged his shirt up. They couldn't have stabbed him. Too far away. Never even touched the blokes. Yet under his t-shirt, in the same spot as hers, there was an identical, bleeding gash, burning with freshness and fire. "Buffy?"  
  
"What happened?" She asked her eyes still dazed.  
  
"Can you walk, Pet?" Spike asked, pulling himself to his feet. She nodded, taking his hand as he pulled her up. "I think we need to go home and clean you.clean us up... Call the Watchers."  
  
Buffy looked longingly at the door of the crypt a moment, then back to Spike. "But..."  
  
He smiled, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. "Thousands more nights, Love. I'll make it up to you."  
  
She felt a twinge of pain and nodded. "Promise?"  
  
"Always."  
  
To be contd. 


	7. Pride

Hello, All,  
  
It's two-fer night at Casa de Nim. I am releasing chapter seven of The One, and I put up a short ficlet in response to a BAPS fic challenge. Take a look; it's called Rest in Peace.  
  
Well, the plot begins to thicken, and we see that things are not always roses between our heroes. But, like everything else, they'll get through it together. Also, Oz puts his two cents in with Tara, letting his feelings on the whole situation be known.  
  
I hope you enjoy the chapter, and the ficlet. Please let me know what you think! Thanks for all the feedback; it keeps me writing!  
  
Without further ado.  
  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
  
  
  
Title: Pride (Chapter Seven of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: The strange occurrences of the night before come to light. The Watchers are called in to try and figure out what happened.  
  
Pride  
  
  
  
"Buffy?" Dawn whined. Even half asleep, the girl could whine. Buffy leaned against the bathroom counter, looking at herself in the mirror. She was exhausted. Not half as exhausted as Spike though. He'd cleaned her wound and put her to bed, waiting for her to fall asleep. But then she had heard him get up. He had gone to watch the kids. He did that whenever something bad happened. It was a habit.  
  
"In here," Buffy half whispered, trying not to wake up Spike in the adjoining room. Vampire hearing or no, she knew he was out. He hadn't lain down until the sun came up.  
  
The door to the bathroom opened slowly. Dawn stood in her pajamas, Will balanced on her hip. The boy was crying softly. "Didn't you hear the monitor? Will had another nightmare," Dawn said, bouncing the boy carefully.  
  
A flash of guilt went through Buffy. She hadn't heard it. She didn't even know it was on. Dawn had taken one with her since she was sitting last night and Buffy didn't know if she remembered to turn hers on when she got in. Tears rushed up behind her eyes. "I...I'm sorry. I...didn't." Slowly, she leaned forward, taking the boy away from Dawn and pulling him close. Buffy winced as his little feet kicked at the wound from the night before.  
  
Dawn's brow furrowed as she reached out, steadying Will. "Buffy, you OK?"  
  
Buffy took a deep breath, swallowing the pain. "Yeah," she said quietly, adjusting Will so that he wasn't kicking her in the side anymore, and then cradling his head to her chest. She bounced him, shh'ing him quietly. "It's all right," Buffy whispered to the boy. "Just a nightmare."  
  
Dawn watched a moment, and then leaned forward, pulling Buffy's shirt up. Neatly taped white bandages laced her side, right under her ribs. "What.what happened last night?" The girl asked softly. "I mean, I thought it was just.fake patrol. Since...since nothing had been going on lately I mean."  
  
Will began to calm down, resting against his mum. "It was," Buffy began. "I mean, we always patrol when we say we are going to. But we hadn't expected much. And we kinda got into a fight and."  
  
"One of them got you?" Dawn asked, pulling back and staring at her sister with concern.  
  
Buffy sighed, not wanting to admit it. It wasn't the first time she'd been had by a creature with a lot less power than she, but it still stung her pride. "Yeah."  
  
Footsteps padded onto the tile behind Buffy. She turned, watching Spike stumble into the room. A quick check of his attire deemed him okay to join the conversation. He had a habit of walking around their room naked, as if he never needed to be dressed in front of her. Not that Buffy didn't appreciate that. But she thought Dawn might be a little stunned. Spike had on blue pajama bottoms. He passed.  
  
"Everything alright?" He asked, walking in and seeing Will still crying softly against his mum. "Tot's not hurt, is he?"  
  
"No," Buffy answered quietly. "Had another nightmare."  
  
Spike's brow furrowed. "Wish he'd tell us what they were about." He reached over, loosing William from Buffy and took him against his chest. "Can't be easy for the little bloke."  
  
"Wait," Dawn gasped, walking forward. Spike hadn't even registered her being in the room and jumped a little as she spoke. That gave Buffy a bit of a giggle. Neither of them were morning people, but Spike certainly didn't have Vampy powers turned on at the moment.  
  
"Niblet!" Spike gasped, looking down to check that he was actually somewhat clothed. He relaxed briefly once he was sure of that fact.  
  
"You have the same cut!" Dawn continued, her fingers tracing the bandages on his side. "The Vampire got you too?"  
  
Buffy sighed, leaning against the counter. "Not exactly."  
  
"What do you mean, not exactly?" Dawn asked, eyeing them both.  
  
"You see, Nibs, we got into a little fisticuffs last night and, well." Spike began.  
  
"I made him stay out of it," Buffy continued for him. "And it got a little out of hand. One of them got me with a knife and I finished him."  
  
"How did Spike get hurt then?" Dawn asked, confusion in her eyes.  
  
"Dunno, Pet. One minute, I'm standing there. Next minute, Buffy's stabbed and I'm bleeding with her," Spike answered. It was honest. That was how it happened. Not that it made any sense.  
  
Dawn thought for a moment. "Do you think it's about that One thing?"  
  
Buffy looked at Spike a moment. They had been joined for five years now. The completed One. Since then, they had both been stabbed, shot with arrows, burned, hell, she'd given birth, and no signs of wounds on the other. Good thing on the last part, she thought to herself. Not a pretty sight. "I don't know," she answered. "I mean, if it is, it's a new part."  
  
"I'll go call Giles," Dawn began again. "I think he's at the shop now. You guys okay?"  
  
"Merely a flesh wound," Spike quoted. Both girls looked at him oddly. Not enough viewings of Monty Python in the house, he thought. Have to rectify that. "We're fine, Pet," he corrected, still holding Will against his bare chest. "But I would appreciate it if you could find the Watcher for us."  
  
Dawn smiled. "Sure. Want me to take Will? I can get him breakfast while I'm up."  
  
Spike looked over at Buffy. William had stopped crying and was quietly staring around, his head on Spike's shoulder. "Want to go off with your Aunt Dawn?" Spike asked, kissing his son's forehead.  
  
"She might even make you funny shaped pancakes," Buffy added.  
  
Will stared at them for a minute, and then held his hands out to Dawn. "Wanna turtle."  
  
"I can do turtles," Dawn answered, taking the boy. "Emma's still asleep. But I'll listen for her. Get some rest before Giles gets here. You both look.."  
  
"I know, I know," Buffy sighed, ushering her sister out the door. "Thanks for helping."  
  
"Sister of the year award," Dawn called from the hall. "I deserve it."  
  
  
  
A soft knock at the door stirred Tara from her morning coffee. She had been taking classes at the college again, now that Willow was almost through medical school and had been offered a job as a teaching assistant. It suited her well. She liked working with the students. Particularly on the subject of non-mainstream religions and theology. Tara thought it might have helped her out in college if there had been someone around who had better understood her and Willow. But the new arrangement did make for early, and long, hours.  
  
Tara rose, walking to the door. She had a while before she had to leave, but she wanted to make sure she had made lunch for Willow and started the laundry. No classes for either of them today, but Tara was going in to start planning for the next semester.  
  
The door hissed against the carpet as she opened it. "H.hi," she said softly at the man in front of her. "Willow. she's asleep."  
  
Oz smiled softly. "I didn't come to talk to her. I came to talk to you."  
  
Tara stood stunned for a moment and then shook her head, as if to clear it. "Come in."  
  
The man walked through the door and stood, waiting for Tara to lead the way. She showed him to the kitchen, gesturing at a chair. "Coffee?"  
  
"Sure," Oz answered, watching the woman move gracefully across the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee and bringing it back to him. She sat cream and sugar in front of him and then settled down to face him.  
  
"What . what can I do for you, Oz?" Tara asked, a bit thrown off by the visit. He seemed like he really did have good intentions, but after all they had been through in the last few years, sometimes you couldn't even trust your best friend.  
  
Oz sighed, stirring sugar into his coffee. "Well, it's like this. I.I know that I was really.um.not too nice when we first met. And I know that this plan of Spike's is a little out of the blue."  
  
Tara had to grin. "He does that. I mean, he means well, but sometimes it's hard to follow how he gets from point A to point B."  
  
The Werewolf smiled in return. "I saw that. But, after I thought about what he said, I figured I owed Willow, and you, the opportunity to decide for yourself."  
  
"Me?" Tara asked, raising an eyebrow. "I mean.I can see Willow."  
  
"She loves you," Oz interrupted. "And I know what it means to be loved by her. It's everywhere, and perfect and true. You deserved that. So, did I. At least most of the time. " He paused, taking a sip of the coffee and then settling it back on the table with a soft click. "We screwed up, Willow and me." The thought of their mutual betrayal made his heart ache all over again. "Anyway, the point is that when I left, and then came back, I didn't understand that then. I didn't get why she could fall in love with someone else and just forget. And smelling her on you.it didn't bring out the best in me."  
  
"No," Tara answered, trying to avoid the smile. "I guess not."  
  
"I've had a lot of time to think since then," Oz continued. "And I know that how I acted was wrong. And I owe you an apology."  
  
Tara smiled this time. "An apology, yes. A baby, not so much."  
  
He blinked. "Are you saying that...?"  
  
"No," Tara answered. "I mean, we haven't decided, but both of us appreciate the offer. I just want you to know that you don't owe us any more than an apology. I mean, Willow loved you for a reason. You must be a good man or else she wouldn't have. So, you don't owe us anything. We all make mistakes."  
  
"Wow," Oz muttered, staring at her with wide eyes.  
  
"Wow what?"  
  
"You guys have gotten really good at the whole forgiveness gig since I left," he answered, a sly grin breaking on his features.  
  
Tara smiled again, her beauty radiating from every pore. "We've had a lot of practice."  
  
They sat silently a moment, watching each other. Studying. It was almost as if they were former enemies. Rivals. But that time had passed. And now they were just looking at another person with too much in common to deny.  
  
"Do you want to do this, Oz?" Tara asked, finally breaking the silence.  
  
Oz thought for a moment and then nodded. "I want to help."  
  
"But do you want to do this?" She asked again. "I mean, this is...this is serious stuff. It's not like.like helping us move or something."  
  
Again, he was quiet. "I need to ask you something, Tara."  
  
"S.sure," she answered quietly. "I mean, I don't know if I have the answer, but I'll try."  
  
He shifted in his chair, not sure how to ask. "Well, I mean, I know how big this is. And I also had pretty much counted myself out as part of the human gene pool. I mean, I didn't think.the rest of the world isn't quite as accepting."  
  
"Of demons. Werewolves," she interrupted.  
  
"Yeah," he answered. "So, I had pretty much thought, since it can be hereditary, apparently, that no human would."  
  
"Well," Tara sighed. "I mean, it's something we have to consider. But I don't know if you've noticed, but none of the kids in this little circle are completely human."  
  
Oz had to chuckle. "Yeah, I noticed. Made me laugh. Who'd a thought that the demon fighting dream team would all end up with half human kids."  
  
"Who better to understand them?" Tara answered honestly. "I mean, who better to understand the Slayer than a Vampire?"  
  
He nodded quirking an eyebrow. "I can see your point." Again he paused, waiting for the words to come. "Tara, what I am trying to say is that."  
  
"You want to be a part of the baby's life." It felt right to her when she said it. The thought was almost oozing off of him. And she understood that.  
  
His eyes were wide. "Yeah, I mean.I don't expect to be let in like a dad or anything. But I would like it if. Maybe I could be hairy Uncle Oz who lives out of town?"  
  
Tara giggled. "I would have to talk to Willow. I mean, we haven't even decided what to do yet. It's.it's a lot. But, yeah. I mean, I have no problem with that. I can't imagine Willow would. But you do understand that we are a family. Me and Willow?"  
  
"I get that," Oz smiled. "I'm glad she has you to watch over her." He looked at his watch tentatively. "I have to go. Promised to catch up with some folks in town. I'll be around for a few days. Just...um, let me know."  
  
"We will," Tara said, rising with him. "And. thanks. I mean, we appreciate the offer."  
  
"The pleasure's all mine," he answered, kissing her hand.  
  
  
  
Cyrus sat across the coffee table from them. She was curled on the couch, her head on Spike's lap. He stroked her hair, as much for his own comfort as his. They looked exhausted. Beaten. The wounds weren't that bad. It was more the thought of what had caused them. Cyrus knew it plagued Spike that he had stood there as Buffy got hurt, although he knew Buffy well enough to know that she insisted on fighting her own battles on occasion. And it bothered Buffy that something had hurt him that she didn't understand. That none of them understood.  
  
There was a brief knock before the front door swung open. Giles stumbled through, frazzled, a pile of books in one hand and a slim leather case in the other. "Sorry," he gushed. "Had to wait for Anya to come back from an assignment and the nanny was running behind."  
  
Buffy chuckled, coughing. "The joys of parenting."  
  
"Yes," Giles answered, pulling up a chair. "I hope that the lethargy is more an effect of lack of sleep rather than the seriousness of the wounds."  
  
"Just a scratch," Buffy responded, pushing herself up. Spike was silent, his hand still absently running along her back. She sat, scooting closer to him, her hip flush to his.  
  
"Is it?" Giles asked Cyrus.  
  
"It's a shallow knife mark. Identical on both of them. Not serious, although it is rather nasty to look at," Cyrus answered.  
  
"And you were not involved in the battle?" Giles asked, turning his attention to Spike.  
  
"No," Spike answered curtly. His guilt was getting the better of him.  
  
"They were two younger Vamps. You know I like to take them on my own. Makes me feel all Slayer-y," Buffy contributed, trying to cover. It was true. She didn't like it when Spike jumped in on the simpler battles. Not unless he was itching to fight.  
  
"Not anymore," Spike corrected through gritted teeth. "Not doing this again."  
  
"Spike," Buffy sighed.  
  
"He's right," Giles contributed. "You've been alive this long because of the One. The joining. No Slayer has reached twenty-seven and had a family. It's not fair to ask him to let you put your life on the line, Buffy."  
  
"It's my job," Buffy huffed, anger building. She felt ganged up on.  
  
"It's *our* job," Spike corrected. "Both of us, Love. It might've been all right to take our chances before. But not now. You've got two little tykes depending on their mum. Don't think you want to leave 'em just yet."  
  
Buffy's mouth snapped shut. She didn't want to ever leave them alone. But being a Slayer was what she was. A killer of killers. Still, Spike wasn't going to let this go. "I think you're over reacting. It was just a scratch."  
  
"This time," Spike answered, looking at her pretty green eyes. "This time, it was just a scratch. Next time, maybe that knife hits your heart." She watched him begin to choke up as he spoke, but she couldn't bring herself to interrupt. "Then what? Then your Slayer pride gets you nothing but two motherless children and."  
  
Buffy watched him plead with her; his eyes wet with unshed tears. He wouldn't cry, but she knew he had. She knew he had sat in Emma's room, silent tears running down his face, thinking about what might have been. "Spike.I'm.."  
  
"And you'd leave me behind to," Spike said quietly. "And for what, Pet? Pride?"  
  
Spike stood, walking away from couch a few steps before turning around. "I can't let you do that, Love. Not even if you resent me until the end of time. Can't let you leave."  
  
He looked at her for a long moment, studying her face. She was everything to him. His world. No one was going to take that without a fight. Buffy stared back, not sure what to say. She was the Slayer, but for once in her life, that came second. She was his partner and their children's mother before the saviour of the World. Selfish, maybe. But that selfishness had gotten her this far.  
  
Spike stared a moment longer, feeling her mind process it, and then walked away. Buffy knew he needed to vent. The exhaustion wasn't helping what was already a sore subject. "Spike?"  
  
But he was gone.  
  
"Buffy, it's best to just let him be for now," Giles interrupted softly. "Sometimes, we all need.time"  
  
"I know," Buffy answered, biting her lip. "It's really not serious."  
  
Cyrus nodded. "Buffy, you should know by now that it's all quite serious. And to him, it's as if he let you down."  
  
"But it was me," Buffy countered. "I'm the one that."  
  
Giles just looked at her sincerely, taking off his glasses. "Do you think that matters? " He wiped them on his shirttail. "If that knife had killed you, do you think it would have mattered whose decision it was to let you fight alone?"  
  
"I guess not," she answered, staring at her feet. "I mean, I didn't think about it like that."  
  
Her Watcher slid his glasses on. "So, why don't you tell me what happened?"  
  
To be contd. 


	8. Compromise

Hello, Everyone.  
  
Little trouble last night so I couldn't get this chapter out. However, it's here today! What's the good news, you ask? Because I was a day late on yesterday's chapter, you get two chapters in two days. That's right. I will release nine tomorrow.  
  
Thanks for your patience with me! I hope you enjoy this bit. Let me know how you feel! Your feedback helps me so much.  
  
Without further ado.  
  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
  
  
  
Title: Compromise (Chapter Eight of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Spike confronts Buffy about their relationship. Buffy begins to understand the extent to which her ending would upset the balance and hurt her family. Luke and Draconius monitor their plan. Willow and Tara have a talk and come to at least one conclusion.  
  
Compromise  
  
  
  
The morning was dreary. Sort of overcast. Actually, Spike thought, were they not in Sunnydale in the absence of dear old granddad, it looked like it might snow. Funny how the poof still could work his way into his thoughts when Buffy and he disagreed. Not that he worried about him anymore. Rationally, Spike knew where Buffy stood. Where she found her home. But in the moments they argued, all of those insecurities came rushing back. All of those moments when he knew he wouldn't be good enough for her, or that he'd never be her precious first love.  
  
"But you're my last," Buffy said softly, opening the door onto the back deck and quietly walking across the wooden planks. He sat on the step, knees drawn to his chest, looking like he wanted to find a cigarette. He didn't. He hadn't for years. But she could see that twitch in the corner of his mouth where he wanted to be holding the filter and thinking different thoughts.  
  
"You buggering round my brain again?" Spike asked. The comment was supposed to carry malice. Only it didn't. He couldn't muster any for her. Instead, it just sounded.sad.  
  
"Didn't need to," she answered, settling herself next to him but not touching. Now was not the time for touching. Buffy knew she had some explaining to do first. "I know you well enough to know what you're thinking."  
  
Spike chuckled under his breath. "You know me so bloody well, then how come you don't understand why I don't want you to fight alone, Buffy? Even the little battles. Those are the ones that'll get you killed."  
  
He didn't look at her. His voice was soft. Afraid. Like all of this had far more meaning to him than Buffy had ever considered. What had happened was so minor. She'd done worse to herself trying to make breakfast. And it didn't seem to bother him that the same wound ached at his side. That was just a mystery to figure out. What was killing him was the moment. The one good day. The thought that he was too late and she hadn't been quite fast enough, even with the juiced up super speed of the One. The knife had only missed her heart because of fate. And if it had killed her, even if it had managed to kill him too, the only thing that he would take to their ending was that he let her down.  
  
Buffy knew that that was the one failure by which he would never again abide.  
  
"Spike, I." she began.  
  
"No, Buffy," Spike snapped, turning his face towards hers. "I have tried. Over and over again, I've tried to never take away what it is that you are. The thing about you that first blew my sodding mind. The Slayer. The Warrior of the People. That's you, Pet. It'll always be you. Just mine now by default." The last words carried more disappointment than Buffy could bear. He felt guilty that she carried it alone. Even joined, he couldn't take away her duty. He could only help. Most of the time, he didn't want to take it from her. It was what he first fell in love with. Her spark. But some moments, like the time he spent sitting in Emma's room imagining that he'd have to tell his daughter that he let her mum die. It was then he wished that he could take it all away.  
  
Buffy bit her lip. "It's not by default, Spike. You're as much a part of this as I am."  
  
Spike shook his head, staring at his feet. "No, Pet. I fight because you taught me it was the right thing to do. And I knew I could help. But I started this for you. And still, part of me does it because I need to protect you. Bit selfish, but true."  
  
She smiled. "Maybe in the beginning, but Spike, I know you do it now because we have to. We have to try and protect the rest of them."  
  
Finally, he turned his face to her, wrought with concern and sadness. "I do, Love. I do fight with you because the rest of the world can't. But, Buffy, what good is it, what good is any of this, if you die? If the World loses you? If.if I lose you?"  
  
His eyes were so deep that she could feel herself struggling to say afloat. Plunging into the depths of his heart and feeling his world swimming in fear and loneliness at just the thought. It made her ache. "You didn't lose me, Spike." It was all she could think of to say.  
  
Spike turned his face away again. "Not this time, Love. But I coulda. I coulda stood there and watched a stupid, sodding fledgling take you away from the World. From me. From the tots. I can't do that anymore, Buffy. Don't care if it hurts your bloody pride. You can be as angry at me as you want. But at least you'll be alive to kick my arse."  
  
Buffy chuckled. "And such a nice arse it is," she joked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"S'not bloody funny," Spike snapped. Buffy stiffened. Usually, he didn't hang onto his anger this long anymore. Well, that was patently untrue. He didn't when it came to *them*. To her and to their children. He could hold a grudge against the rest of the world with the best of them. "Do you ever think about that, Buffy?"  
  
Her brow furrowed. "Think about what?"  
  
"What'd happen if you died?" He asked, looking at her once again. "Permanently?" He corrected, thinking that the question was ambiguous to both of them otherwise.  
  
She wrung her hands in her lap, looking away. "Uh.I mean.I know what's out there, but I am in no real rush to get back."  
  
Spike shook his head. "And what about here, Pet? Hmm? Think about it for a minute." His voice wavered. "This house, without you in it. Be like a Christmas tree without the star. I could take care of them. I mean, I could feed them and make sure they went to school and had clothes, though I imagine your sis would pick them out due to my petrifying lack of fashion sense." he rambled, tossing her barb from the night before back at her. "But they'd never know, they'd barely remember when they were older. Emma might. But Will.he'd spend his life not knowing the one woman in all the World that was his mum. And I'd have to tell him every day, I'd have to remember every bloody day, how wonderful you are and how much I love you and how much I miss you and I want to die with you, but I *can't*. I bloody *can't* because I have to stay and make sure they *know* you because you couldn't be bothered to stay with them anymore."  
  
Buffy looked gob smacked. She had thought about what would happen if one of them went. But she hadn't thought about it quite like that. What would happen if she died because she didn't let him help when he could have. Her sense of duty got in the way of her sense of love. That, she thought, she needed to work on.  
  
Slowly, Buffy stood. Spike's eyes glanced towards her, assuming he'd pissed her off just enough to pick up and walk off. Didn't do that much anymore, but he didn't tell her off often either. Didn't have the need. Mostly, they saw eye to eye. Or mind to mind.  
  
But she didn't walk away. She moved around in front of him, down a stair and sat on her heels to face him. Her small hands touched the denim covering his knees and she opened them, pressing her body into the space between. He couldn't look at her. Wouldn't. Felt as though he'd crack into a million pieces if he could see what he might lose. The only downside of loving her. One day she'd be gone.  
  
"Spike," Buffy whispered, her hands trailing up his arms to his face. Her palms pressed to his cheeks, drawing his eyes to hers. "Listen, Okay? I know you're over me today, but can you listen for a minute?"  
  
He looked at her, watching her green eyes heavy and serious. They were like emeralds sinking in pools of shining water. He wanted to dive in to save them. "All right," he agreed.  
  
"Try not to have a stroke when I say this, but you're right. I'm wrong." She paused a moment, letting a brief but genuine flash of shock pass over his features. "I mean, I am the Slayer. I will always be the Slayer. Until.until I'm not anymore. But I don't want that to be now. And I don't want it to be anytime while I'm able enough to fight. It's me and I like that. And you do too, somewhere."  
  
He nodded, not wanting to speak.  
  
She accepted his answer. "One day, I will die. And one day, you will too. With any luck, we'll be old and shriveled up and curled in a bed with Emma and Will's grandchildren tearing through the house. Or maybe we'll die in a fight, but together. But I won't let it happen before it's meant to. Being the One is just as much a part of me as the Slayer. As Buffy. But being yours, being theirs, is the biggest part of me now. And I don't want to leave it. If that means I have to swallow the whole 'I can do it, girl- power trip', then I guess I will. But you have to promise me something."  
  
"What, Pet?" Spike asked softly, not sure if he could compromise much on this topic.  
  
"You have to let me fight. You can't protect me from what's out there. It's *our* battle. If I have to remember that, then so do you. Don't ever leave them alone, Spike. If it's one of us or both, we always have to remember that one stays here. We can't leave them alone.." She began to waver, her voice sounding like leaves on the wind. It wasn't so long ago that she'd been left alone. Granted, her father hadn't died. Didn't have to to leave her. What he did was worse. But that was the one thing she didn't want her own to ever go through. If they could manage it, one would always have to stay behind. He didn't like it, but he respected it.  
  
"Fair enough," Spike said softly, his own hand rising to her cheek. Her eyes closed and he could feel her press into him, trying to let go of all of the sadness in her and find herself in his touch. His thumb traced her cheek. "I can't take away your calling, Pet. And I would never want to. I love the Slayer bits as much as the Buffy bits. I'm not a proud man. I've never had a problem with the fact that you could send me back across the pond with a kick or two. You'll always be stronger, more powerful, more . light. But I can help you, Love. That's all I ever wanted to do. Well, least since the change of heart."  
  
She chuckled, opening her eyes again. "I want you to help me."  
  
He nodded. "Good, then. Don't make me watch you die when I could've stopped it."  
  
"I won't," Buffy whispered. She leaned forward, letting her lips press softly to his. Not a kiss of passion, but rather one of comfort. They both had scars that would never be healed. But together, the voids they left behind were filled. The empty spaces life had gouged from their existence disappeared. And it was all right again.  
  
"And I'll see to it that we die in that bed, then. Since you'll still be my golden goddess and I'll still be trying to get into your knickers," Spike snarked, running his hand over her shiny hair. She smiled.  
  
"Even when we're all wrinkly?" She asked.  
  
"Don't think it matters much. You'll still be you," he answered, touching his lips to her forehead.  
  
"And you are my only love," Buffy answered. "Don't ever belittle that."  
  
He pulled away, looking at her for a moment. "I know it still crosses your mind. When you're upset with me, or you think I'm upset with you. I was not your first love. You weren't mine. But you are my last. My only." She continued, watching his eyes soften. Maybe she really did know him that well, he thought. "Always."  
  
"Everyday, Pet," he completed, letting his lips find hers in earnest. He took her breath away, his mouth so hungry, his heart so needing of her love. It made her world revolve and her life worth saving.  
  
She sat stunned for a moment when he moved away. Old married guys weren't supposed to kiss like that. At least not all the time. She was one lucky girl, Buffy thought. She cleared her throat. "Cyrus and Giles want to talk to us more about what happened, okay?"  
  
"Didn't you tell them, Pet?" Spike asked, rubbing her cheek with his thumb.  
  
"Yeah," she sighed, "But I think they think I'm missing something. Guess they want to hear it from you."  
  
He chuckled. "Always thorough."  
  
That made her smile. "Not nearly as thorough as you."  
  
"I still owe you a Sundae," he commented, smiling a wicked smile.  
  
"I won't forget," Buffy purred, standing and pulling him up with her. "I love you, Spike."  
  
He stopped, looking at her pretty eyes again. Studying them. There were no words enough to let her know what she meant to him. "I know, Pet. You are my heart."  
  
She smiled softly. "Can we go in now? It's getting chilly."  
  
"Yeah," he answered, sliding his jacket off and around her shoulders. "But Buffy?"  
  
"Hunh?" She asked, turning around at the door.  
  
Spike was quiet, not sure why he was feeling the way he was at the moment. But something told him this was important. "I think we should stay in tonight. Least till we have this sussed out."  
  
Buffy nodded. She looked too tired to fight. "Yeah. Xander and Willow can do a quick round. Maybe take Dawn. We can stay in."  
  
"Good," he answered, holding the door open. "Want to be with you and the tots."  
  
  
  
Draconius stalked the length of the red carpet, the fire blazing behind him. Luke had an unhealthy penchant for red. As if it reinforced his ability to be evil. All it did for Draconius was make his eyes hurt.  
  
Luke stared into the monitor, watching the woman huddled in what looked to be a shed. "She's not doing a whole lot, Drac," Luke monitored, tapping the monitor with his index finger as that might spur her along. Like some might tap on the side of a fish tank thinking that might make the fish swim faster.  
  
"She's not meant to, you moron," Draconius snapped, yanking the monitor from Luke's hand and setting it on a table. "Were she just to walk in there and start wreaking havoc on the masses, it wouldn't take the One long to figure it out."  
  
"Oh," Luke sighed, leaning back in the chair. "You know, you don't need to get all huffy about it." He was quiet a minute. "Wanna go grab a beer and watch the torture trials? I think today is rock tossing at damned souls from 30 feet. Fun and excitement for the whole family," Luke taunted, bouncing on the red velvet cushion.  
  
Draconius sighed. "Will it get you to shut up?"  
  
Luke thought on that a moment. "Except for the cheering on of the torturers, yeah." Again, he stopped, gathering his thoughts. "How do we know that it worked?"  
  
"She's there, correct?" Draconius explained, as if to a slow child.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"The spell is doing all of the work. We sent her to find the One. If she got within 100 yards of them, the charm let loose the spell and their paths will cross," the old one continued. "She is our pawn for now. All she must do until we give her further instructions is wait. The spell will do the rest."  
  
"Oh," Luke sighed again. "And what exactly will she do?"  
  
"Do you ever listen?" Draconius huffed, making the fire flame up behind him. "I mean, I have explained to you a thousand times that the spell will cross the One. Confusing their power. And then, once we are sure that has been done, we will send her in for the Peacemaker."  
  
"Oh," Luke chirped, pushing himself to his feet. "I mean, if you say so. You ready for that beer?"  
  
Draconius shook his head. This would be the most trying alliance he'd had. And he'd thought the farm boy was a little short of brilliant. This git would likely drive him mad before he could ever succeed in their plans. "Provided you don't speak to *me*, yes."  
  
"Let's do it," Luke sang cheerfully, heading out the door.  
  
A soft knock sounded at her office door. Tara looked up, wondering who would be there. Campus was basically silent on the day after Christmas. No one should be wandering around the halls. It made Tara nervous.  
  
As she approached the door, she could feel it, and it made her smile. Willow. She swung the wood against the carpet of the small office with a soft hiss. "Hey there," Willow chirped, holding two paper cups of coffee. "Thought you might need a break."  
  
Tara leaned forward, letting a kiss press against her lover's cheek. "Absolutely," she answered. "Come on in."  
  
Willow walked in, handing Tara a cup and flopping down on the couch. Tara sat down next to her, curling her legs underneath of her. "So, whatcha doing?"  
  
"Making lesson plans for Wicca in US Universities and trying to figure out how not to be boring," Tara answered, smiling softly at her lover.  
  
Willow chuckled. "You're never boring, baby."  
  
The word rang between them for a moment and brought them back to the big honking thoughts that had hung in the air since Spike and Buffy had first brought it up last night. Baby. "Did...did you want to talk?"  
  
"Talk about.not if you don't want to," Willow answered nervously. "I mean, we can."  
  
"We should," Tara completed. "Oz came by this morning."  
  
"He.he did?" Willow asked. "While I was sleepin'?"  
  
Tara smiled. "I didn't want to wake you. He wanted to say he was sorry for how he treated me when we met before. And he wanted to make sure I knew where he stood. That he.he wanted to help us.if... if we want him to. And he wanted to be sure we knew that it might.well, the Werewolf thing. It could be hereditary. And he asked.He asked if we would be willing to let him be a part of the baby's life, if we decided to."  
  
"Sounds like you talked about a lot," Willow sighed. "Was he there a long time?"  
  
"Just for a few minutes. I think he felt like he needed to say it on his own. Without Spike and Buffy," Tara answered. "It was nice."  
  
"Good," Willow said, her voice still thready with nervousness. She paused, her fingers running up the side of the coffee cup. "So.what.what are you thinking?"  
  
Tara was quiet. Thinking was all she had done since it all came back up. Thinking about the implications of this. The how's, the why's, the what's. Should they? Shouldn't they? Who? And would it be easier or harder to have someone they knew as the father? But she came back to the same place she always did when she was confused. Instinct. And her instincts were telling her this was right. "I.I think that we should take him up on the offer."  
  
The look on Willow's face was a mixture of utter shock and complete happiness. A frightened look, but not like seeing a big scary demon scared. Like happy scared. "You.you do?"  
  
Tara smiled, taking Willow's hands. "It's up to you what we do from here. I mean, I will tell you how I feel and what I think, but I just feel like it's the right thing to do." She paused, watching Willow's face for a moment. "Spike was right. We've been talking about this way too long. The answer just sort of got presented to us. Maybe that means we should trust it."  
  
"Yeah," Willow answered. "Yeah," she repeated with a little more conviction. "But.but how? And...and who?"  
  
A sly smile broke on Tara's soft face. "I think we've made one big decision for the day. Let's not overdo it."  
  
Willow giggled. "So, we're going to do this."  
  
Tara nodded her reply. "Yes, we are."  
  
To be contd. 


	9. Sex in TwentyFirst Century America

Good Afternoon, All,  
  
Don't be frightened (or excited) by the title. This is, indeed, a PG-13 chapter. But I think you will find it apt.  
  
Hopefully, the next chapter will be out on Wednesday. Things have been quite hectic for me, so no guarantees, but things are looking good right now.  
  
I hope you enjoy the chapter and let me know what you think!  
  
*Cheery Vibes*,  
  
Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Buffy, and a widdle Spike, and Spike wubs Buffy."  
  
James Marsters 14 July 2002  
  
Title: Sex in Twenty-First Century America (Chapter Nine of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Spike, Cyrus and Buffy discuss the events of the night before. But are the children safe while out with Dawn? Willow and Tara discuss their decision. Spike is given information regarding his daughter's fate that doesn't sit well with him. The Watchers begin to sort out what is happening in Sunnydale.  
  
  
  
Sex in Twenty-First Century America  
  
Giles leaned back in the overstuffed arm chair and threaded his hands together behind his head. He looked tired. And concerned. Basically a permanent expression for a Watcher. At least a Summers/Windsor girl Watcher. Cyrus shared the expression.  
  
"Where is Emma now?" Cyrus asked, leaning forwards with his elbows on his knees.  
  
"With Dawn," Buffy answered. "I think she was taking the kids out for ice cream and to play." She stopped a moment, thinking. "It. it *is* safe right? I mean, it's daylight."  
  
The Watchers looked at each other. "You can't stop their lives, Buffy, but I think there is more to this than just coincidence or the natural progression of the One," Giles continued. He looked at both the Slayer and her Vampire for a long moment, watching their faces both tighten with concern. "Until we know what is causing this, or if it will progress much further, then I suspect it might be. wise. to keep Emma and William close. Not to let them go out unprotected."  
  
Buffy jumped up, panic in her movements. She scanned the room for her jacket. "I'll go find them."  
  
"Buffy, I am sure they're fine," Cyrus said, a weak smile on his face. "Besides, we've more to talk about."  
  
Spike shot a warning glance at the Watcher and rose with Buffy. "You tell us to keep them close, as if you know something about what the bloody hell is happening, then expect us *not* to go and find them?"  
  
Slowly, Cyrus nodded, understanding. "My apologies."  
  
Buffy grabbed Spike's hand and he reached for his jacket. "Spike," she whispered softly. "We need to figure this out. Stay here and finish with the third degree. I'll go and get Dawn and the kids."  
  
Spike looked at her as if she might've grown a second head. "Did our conversation outside mean *anything* to you, Buffy?"  
  
She sighed, her shoulders slumping. "It did," Buffy answered firmly. "But we need to get a handle on this fast. If you help them, then maybe we won't have to think about that again for a while. All right?" He still looked at her as if she'd slaughtered a calf. "And I promise, if anything pops out, I will grab the kids and run. I don't want to fight without you at my back. And I won't. Okay?"  
  
Sometimes, you just have to compromise. "All right," he conceded, nodding. "But if you see anything, don't rise to it, Pet. We don't know what's coming, and we don't know how to."  
  
She silenced him, pressing her lips to his. Spike relaxed into the kiss, her hands stroking his arms. "I promise. I'll find them and be back before you know it."  
  
"Right then," Spike sighed. "Be careful. I love you."  
  
She grinned broadly. "Always"  
  
Before he could respond, she turned, bolting out of the house.  
  
  
  
"Don't you think he. he should... he should be here when we talk about this?" Tara asked, sitting down across the coffee table from Willow.  
  
"Um. well, I mean. do you have any idea what you want to do?" Willow asked, sipping at a mug full of tea. "I mean, how."  
  
"No," Tara asked. "I mean. do we. or should we?"  
  
"Sleep with him?" Willow asked. She shuddered a bit. Not that she had a bad memory. But men had been out of her life in that respect for so long, she wasn't sure that she remembered what to do. Then again, she mused, it was probably like riding a bike. "And who. who. you know? The mom thing. Who gets to be the mom?"  
  
Tara looked down, her fingers tracing the top of the cup. "Well, he's. he was your boyfriend, Willow. I. I mean. you would be the obvious choice. Not... not to mention that. well, I've sort of been gay all along."  
  
It hadn't really occurred to Willow that Tara had never been with a man before. Ever. "You mean. you never *ever*."  
  
Tara shook her head. "Nope."  
  
"Oh," Willow gasped. "I mean. do you want to? I mean, not regularly because. ewww. but is it something you think you want to."  
  
"Try?" Tara helped. "Not particularly. Although I guess it wouldn't be all bad."  
  
"It's not," Willow answered, almost too quickly. Tara quirked an eyebrow, the side of her mouth twitching in a half smile. "I mean, it's got nothing on."  
  
"I know," the shyer girl responded. "I know what you meant."  
  
Willow was silent for a moment. "You'd. you'd be such a great mom," she sighed. "And, I don't know. there's something almost. sexy. about knowing you're going to carry our child."  
  
"Goes both ways," Tara responded, that same hint of a smile and raise of an eyebrow decorating her pretty face. "So, what do we do?"  
  
Willow sighed, leaning back into the chair. "I mean. we could go Artificial Insemination and they could try with both of us. It would double our chances."  
  
"We could," Tara said, again smiling. Something about that smile made Willow tilt her head and study her. "But Spike is right, sort of crass as he might have seemed."  
  
"About what *now*?" Willow groaned half-heartedly, rolling her eyes.  
  
"If we are going to do this, we should just do it," Tara answered. "I mean, the... the package deal. It's worth a try."  
  
Willow's eyes grew as wide as saucers. "You. you want to sleep with him? I mean, you and him and... The bed. and... And . sex?" She stuttered, gob smacked by the admission.  
  
Tara had to laugh. "No, silly. Well, yeah. But not like that. I don't want to sleep with *Oz*. I want to sleep with you."  
  
The redhead was lost. "What. what are you.You know that we don't really have all the. stuff. to make a baby."  
  
The shy one had to laugh out loud at that. "I'm no medical student," she began, her smile now fully evident. "But I think I understand what it takes."  
  
"So, how?" Willow wondered, still completely lost.  
  
Tara smiled again. "I want to sleep with *you*, Willow. Always. But. what if he just happens to be there?"  
  
  
  
"Spike, there is *nothing* else you can remember?" Giles pressed, leaning towards the Vampire. He didn't like the strained look on Spike's face. It was times like these he could remember in some part of his Watcher mind, that Spike still had a demon inside that was carefully controlled. That look on his face, when Buffy or the kids were in trouble, was the only real reminder that any of them had outside of battle.  
  
"No," Spike answered curtly. "What you read from your little notebooks, what Buffy said, 'bout sums it up."  
  
Cyrus sighed. "Look," he said quietly. "I know that you're upset, Spike. Worried. But we have information that there is movement on the Draconius. issue."  
  
With that, Spike's eyes flew open and flashed yellow. "He's dead, Mate. Well and truly."  
  
"And you know exactly how permanent that can be in this town," Giles responded succinctly. "Dead is relative. It means he has moved into another dimension. One in which we *think* he is trapped."  
  
"You *think*!" Spike exploded. He stood with a jump, beginning to pace. "Why in bloody hell are you just telling us this now?"  
  
"Because I just found out on a Council call yesterday morning," Cyrus responded quietly.  
  
"Then you should've told us *yesterday* so my. so Buffy. my family. would not be out there alone right now," Spike snapped, beginning to pace the length of the couch.  
  
"It was Christmas," Giles answered. "Neither you and Buffy, nor those children, have nearly enough normal moments in your lives. You needed to be letting them have a happy holiday, Spike. Be their . relatively. normal parents when you can. Show them life is not all about battle and worry."  
  
"Ours *is*," Spike hissed, still stalking the room like a jungle cat.  
  
Cyrus had to laugh. Giles soon joined in with him. Spike turned, his head jerking around to face the Watchers. "What? What's so bloody funny?"  
  
Giles sighed as he giggled. "Yes, of course. We forgot you making Christmas dinner and origami hats for your children and practically molesting Buffy in front of your friends and family were about the battle."  
  
Spike tried not to smile. Tried not to admit to the level of domesticity into which his life had settled. But he couldn't. The tension escaped with a rush of air between his lips. "Well that last bit can resemble battle. On occasion."  
  
"No information needed," Giles commented, watching Spike settle back down on the couch. "So, just enjoy those moments when you can. If we had thought the threat to be imminent, we would have told you sooner. As it stands, it's more rumour."  
  
Cyrus still chuckled to himself. "That was quite good green bean casserole, Spike."  
  
"Sod off," Spike hissed, tossing an aggravated glare at the newer Watcher. "You'd learn to cook as well if you had Buffy preparing your meals. We'd all be wasting away."  
  
Cyrus just continued chuckling.  
  
"Back to the point, and the conversation that we had with Council headquarters. There is information that Draconius may be trying to upset the balance in this dimension, in order to create enough confusion to extract Emma," Giles continued, his tone concerned, but lighter than before. It was easier to speak frankly if one didn't have to wonder if the person with which one was speaking might lose his temper and rip your tongue out.  
  
"I thought you said he was trapped," Spike questioned, letting his arm drape over the side of the couch. The worry was still there. If Buffy wasn't back in half an hour, he was going to find them, Watchers or no.  
  
"He is," Cyrus responded. "We know that to free him, it will take a mystical confluence. A series of events occurring all at once, and those events could not have happened yet. Not to mention, we aren't exactly sure what they are." The last words trailed off in the hopes that Spike might not hear them.  
  
No such luck.  
  
"If you aren't sure what they *are*, oh mighty Watcher, then how are you sure they haven't happened?" Spike snarked, the tone coming back into his voice.  
  
"For one," Cyrus answered, his voice wavering. Spike was not going to like this no matter how he put it. "Emma must be an adult. Reached physical maturity." Maybe I can leave it there, he thought. But Spike was giving him a look that said he knew there was more and would wait only so long to be told before beginning to remove the Watcher's body parts. "And . and."  
  
"Oh, spit it out, Cyrus," Spike growled. "Haven't got all bloody day."  
  
Cyrus looked at Giles. "Spike, for this to happen, she will not be. there will have to be a . an ... event. to make her not completely pure. Not wholly sacred. Not that she will in any way be bad. But..."  
  
"Spike," Giles finally interrupted, saving Cyrus from saying it. "Part of what has to happen for the confluence to occur is a chink in her armour. She will not be a virgin."  
  
It took a moment for Spike to register that. To fully take in what the Watchers were saying. They were talking about a five year old's future sex life. That was bad enough. But his *daughter's*. That was worse. His breaths came in quick, angry pants and he could feel the blood boiling just beneath the skin. But he controlled himself. "Well, that's easy enough to handle. Just won't let her near boys. Chastity belts will be in fashion. Been thinking bout that anyway."  
  
"Spike," Giles sighed again. "I know this is a subject that you do not want to discuss, and there is no need to do so now. But it is proof that Draconius cannot be released from his dimension. Still, you must think. Times are not as they were when you were a child. Nor even me. Look at. even look at Buffy's generation."  
  
That did it. Spike stood, angrier by the moment. "If you're asking me to think of the. to think of what. Buffy. even what *I* did with Buffy... before. No."  
  
"I'm not asking any such thing," Giles answered. "What I am saying is that protecting her from what has come to be a normal young woman's life will be much more difficult. Even with the highest of moral standards, women in love do odd and out of character things."  
  
Spike grumbled, crossing his arms. "I'll chain her to a wall then. Or me. Put one of those ankle collar things on her so I can track her every move."  
  
"Oh, and Buffy will certainly agree to that," Giles countered. "Chaining your daughter to a wall."  
  
The Vampire sighed, sitting down again. "No," he said. "But who's to say she can stop me?"  
  
Cyrus and Giles looked at each other and sighed. "Spike, if you aren't fully aware of your completely whipped status, then we shouldn't be the ones to tell you."  
  
"I'm not.!" Spike snapped, and then sighed, resigned. "All right. So I am. But that doesn't mean that I have no say in the matter."  
  
"No, it doesn't," Cyrus said simply. "But you will have to accept that children do grow up. They become teenagers. And then adults. Like you or Buffy."  
  
"Oh God," Spike sighed, burying his head in his hands. "I was just getting the hang of this bit. Sod all. How am I expected to do this?"  
  
"You'll figure it out," Giles answered compassionately. "It'll be easier with Will. But this isn't something supernatural. Anya and I, Xander and Takina, we'll all have a whole new world of worries when they're older."  
  
"So nice of you to remind me," Spike snarked. "Can't we just. I don't know, keep 'em tots a while longer?"  
  
"Alas no," Giles sighed. "We will have to brave the frontiers like the warriors that we are. But, at least your mind should be at ease that Draconius cannot escape."  
  
"Bloody hell," Spike sighed. "So, if the wanker is trapped, why are we worried about him?"  
  
"Well," Cyrus began again. "It is proxy movement we have come to be concerned about."  
  
Spike furrowed his brow. "Not sure I'm understanding."  
  
"For example," Giles began. "When you still had your chip, we knew you could not feed directly on humans, correct?"  
  
"Right," Spike drew out, trying to follow.  
  
"But you could've had another Vampire do the killing and then feed from the corpse," Giles continued. "Therefore not activating the chip, but still harming a human by proxy."  
  
"Didn't though. Grew a damned conscience somewhere along the way," Spike corrected.  
  
"But you could have," Cyrus said. "You could have had minions actually execute the mayhem, and you just sit back and watch."  
  
Spike nodded. "S'pose I could've."  
  
"Right," Giles responded. "So, it isn't impossible that Draconius has found a way to send another to this dimension, or several others, to execute his plans in his absence." Giles paused for a moment. "I doubt highly he's grown a conscience."  
  
"How could he manage that?" Spike asked, now leaning forward, hands clasped between his knees.  
  
"Any number of ways. Enchant another being. A spell. It would have to have a vessel in this dimension. And Draconius is arrogant. He'd not trust the free will of another, no matter how evil. He would want a shell. An automaton. And would most likely have this shell mindlessly do his bidding via some sort of animation or enchantment," Cyrus continued.  
  
"Like a robot," Giles continued. "One that is either programmed to do his bidding. Or carries some sort of vessel for a spell that will do the work for him."  
  
Spike thought for a moment. "I haven't. I mean, how would we know?"  
  
"Of that, I am not sure," Cyrus responded. "But this is why we keep asking if there is anything else that happened before the battle last night. Trying to narrow down the research. We need to be precise. If nothing unusual strikes you, we need to be delving into the Prophesy of the One rather than bothering with Draconius. What could cause it to overlap between the both of you or if this is natural progression. If something else happened, then possibly, we need to be on alert for activity from Draconius."  
  
"We need to do that either way, Mate," Spike responded, leaning back against the couch. A thought occurred to him like a bolt of lightning and his hand slapped to his chest. "Wait."  
  
"What?" Giles asked, leaning forward with interest. "Do you remember something?"  
  
Spike furrowed his brow, trying to make sense of it. "When Buffy and I walked into the cemetery, something odd happened. Felt like something passed right through me. Through my chest. I remember looking at her and she sort of snapped back, like she'd taken a blow. But nothing was there. Checked her over myself and not a scratch on her pretty little head."  
  
"Nothing on either of you? Cyrus asked.  
  
"No," Spike replied, focusing again on the Watchers. "Thought it might've been something we ate. Or the wind. Or maybe even some wayward spirit. But didn't seem to do anything. Just odd."  
  
"Could be a spell," Cyrus said to Giles. "Or some sort of controlling mechanism."  
  
"Could be," Giles responded. He turned to Spike. "The same spot on each of you?"  
  
"When I looked at her, her hand was slapped to her heart. Same with me," Spike answered, wondering why it hadn't occurred to him before. "But nothing else. I mean, nothing more than the normal One bit. Feeling her thoughts. Getting in each other's heads."  
  
"Right," Giles said. "Gives us a place to start, though. You're right; we need to watch Draconius either way. But I think it's time we paid some attention to the Prophesy of the One as well."  
  
Spike nodded. "You're free to research here," he commented. "Could probably help."  
  
"That'd be good," Giles answered. "Could you have the others come by later? We all need to be on the same page."  
  
"Maybe you can make another green bean casserole," Cyrus rubbed in. Spike lunged forward, growling jokingly.  
  
Just then, the door swung open. Buffy rushed in, her eyes nervous and afraid. "Spike!"  
  
His heart sank in his chest, looking at her pretty, frightened eyes. He was out of the chair and halfway to the door before she could finish. 'What is it, love?"  
  
Her voice was thready. "It's Will."  
  
To be contd. 


	10. Until the Next Apocalypse

Good evening, All,  
  
Here is chapter ten of The One, as promised. Alas, I don't know if there will be a Friday release this week as more family drama has plagued Casa de Nim. I will do my best, but I do assure you, you will have at least one additional chapter by week's end. I will send out notifications to the yahoo group when I release.  
  
Speaking of the group, I get a lot of requests on where to find all of the previous books in one place. Where, you ask? Well, at Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com (insert shameless plug here), in the files section, I have uploaded books one through five in continuous format. In other words, they look rather more like a book than a chapter by chapter release. Please check it out. All are welcome (at least all Buffy/Spike shipper fic addicts).  
  
Thanks again for all of your support. And to Brat, Cindy and Malena, my betas, my great thanks. Also to Bittn, Karen, Alane, Laurie and Eliz. Without you, I would be drifting aimlessly at the moment. Many thanks.  
  
Without further ado..  
  
*Cheery Vibes* , Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
  
  
  
Title: Until the Next Apocalypse (Chapter Ten of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Willow and Tara come to talk to Buffy about their decision. Draconius is concerned about the effectiveness of their plan. Will they have to step up the pace? Buffy finds Dawn and the kids, but something has happened to Will.  
  
Until the Next Apocalypse  
  
  
  
They walked up the sidewalk in silence, hand in hand. It was too odd a concept. Too. progressive of them. They needed to bounce this one off of Buffy. Sure, Spike would probably be put out that he set this all in motion and they wanted to talk to her, but Willow couldn't imagine discussing this with any man. At least any man who wasn't directly involved.  
  
"What do you think she'll say?" Tara asked, her fingers wound around Willow's.  
  
A sly smile broke on the redhead's face. "I think.I think for the first time ever, it will be us making her blush."  
  
"You know she'll tell Spike," Tara responded, holding back her own grin. "And.and then he'll look at us all."  
  
"Leery," Willow contributed, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"No," her lover giggled. "But he'll wonder. he'll be all. proud of himself."  
  
"He's always like that," Willow answered as they turned the corner onto Revello. "But I don't think he'll tell. You know. Xander. And. and Giles."  
  
Tara's face went blank a moment and she stopped in her tracks. "Giles? Oh Willow, what if. what would they think?"  
  
The redhead turned to face her love. "Who. cares? I mean, this is our decision, right?"  
  
"Right," Tara agreed. "So, why are we telling Buffy?"  
  
"To see if it's the right one?" Willow answered timidly. "Oh, I don't know, sweetie. Because we want to be right."  
  
Tara smiled. "We are."  
  
The woman heard the scream from her space in the shed in the back. Something about that scream. The sound. The tone. It was so familiar. And there was a child wailing. That child. The pitch, the *soul* of the sound reverberated in her ears.  
  
Do souls make a sound?  
  
She dropped to her belly, trying to look out under the bottom wooden beam. Nothing. There was a dog in the yard, but he hadn't noticed her yet. The dead, or the reanimated dead, must not have a smell.  
  
Do spirits have a smell?  
  
There was nothing in her line of sight but a fence. And the dog. And a flower bed that needed tending. Some swings. But the sound carried to her. It carried right into her mind, her spirit. Why can't I remember? She thought ruefully. What pained her more was that curiosity was the only thing she felt. The part of her that cared was missing. Even worse was the fact that she knew it had once been there.  
  
That she had once cared.  
  
  
  
Spike flew out the door behind Buffy, nearly knocking her down as they both hurdled the steps. Dawn was on her knees on the ground, hovering over something. She was blocking Spike's view. Emma stood on the sidewalk nearly silently, her hands folded in front of her, her fingers nervously threading in and out.  
  
"He. he fell," Buffy panted as they made it to Dawn. "Dawn said he on the swings one minute and the next there was."  
  
Part of Spike relaxed. This was normal drama. Not Draconius has stolen my family theatre. But then he saw the boy, his small, gentle face coated in blood, his little arm cocked at a weird angle. A dam in the Vampire's heart burst and sheer panic threatened to take control.  
  
"Spike?" Giles called from the porch.  
  
"Page Takina. Number's by the phone," Spike shouted back, scooting Dawn over and dropping to his knees next to the boy. William was wailing, hitching sobs coming out of his small, bloody mouth.  
  
"Buffy, can you get some supplies? I'll bring him into the house," Spike said, sliding his hands under the little boy. William looked up at him with wet and frightened blue eyes.  
  
"Daddy?" His voice was shaky.  
  
"S'alright," Spike whispered, pulling the child against him, holding the arm in place. "Be right as rain."  
  
The boy cried quietly against his chest, burrowing his face into Spike's shirt. "Hurts," he sobbed.  
  
"I know, Will," Spike answered.  
  
"Should we call an ambulance?" Cyrus asked as Spike bustled past Dawn, intent on getting the boy inside. Emma grabbed his belt loop as he went past, tagging quietly behind.  
  
Spike didn't speak, brushing past the Watchers and carrying the boy into the kitchen, where the light was best. "Is he. is he going to be okay?" Dawn asked timidly, her arms crossed over her chest, tears running down her face.  
  
"You were supposed to be watching him," Buffy snapped at her sister, pulling medical supplies out of the cabinet and lining them up within Spike's reach. Dawn cringed into the corner.  
  
"I was," Dawn answered quietly. "Emma. she wanted me to watch her on the jungle gym. I just turned my head and."  
  
"If you can't handle them both, don't take them," Buffy stated again, setting a bowl of water on the counter as Spike worked off the child's shirt.  
  
"I. I'm sorry," Dawn whispered.  
  
"Not good enough," Buffy pressed, her voice full of venom, her face covered in tears.  
  
"Buffy, I."  
  
"Enough," Spike stated simply. "Dawn, please go to your room. Giles, when Takina calls back, let her know that I'm bringing Will into the hospital. Cyrus, I'd ask you keep an eye on Emma." His voice was neutral, but Buffy could feel his mind working overtime, trying not to fall apart at the sight of their son. "Buffy?"  
  
She stood stock still, staring at Spike, biting her lip. Her body was as tense as wire. He softened looking at her. "Love, can you grab a blanket and one of those soft elastics."  
  
"A... an ace bandage?" She stuttered, watching Spike dab blood off of William's face. The little boy stared up at his father as if he was hypnotized. Buffy wondered if Spike did have some kind of thrall the way William just stared intently at his dad.  
  
"Yes, Pet," Spike answered, his concentration on William.  
  
"Is... is it bad?" She asked, her voice quaking, her heart thumping in her chest. He could feel her body like a rubber band ready to snap.  
  
Spike turned to look at her. Terror was in her eyes. She'd seen demons and hell gods, even watched people die, but she was falling apart at the sight of Will. Hell, Spike thought. He was close to falling apart. "No, Love. But he needs to go to hospital. Think his arm's broken."  
  
"The... the blood?" Buffy asked.  
  
Spike chuckled. "Split his lip. Probably did worse to me last week. Bleeds like a sodding fountain. "He turned his attention back to her, watching her face a moment. "It's all right, Buffy. Just go get what I said and we'll both take him." He nodded at her encouragingly, trying to break his brave Slayer out of being paralyzed by fear. "It'll be right as rain, Pet," Spike's hand cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing the contours of her face. "Be home before nightfall, but we have to move fast."  
  
Buffy nodded, shaking her head a little, feeling a bit entranced herself. She leaned down, kissing Will's cheek and tore off out of the room in a blaze of energy fueled by fear and anger and upset.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Draconius stood, sipping brandy from a paper cup. Luke had not told him that their torture rallies, as the resident hell god had referred to this nightmare, was something akin to that horrid television show his younger minions insisted on watching when Draconius had been on Earth. Smackside or something like that.  
  
More of just a testosterone driven free for all, but this time it was real. The torturers did seem to have a right good time of things, but their methods were uncreative to Draconius's more refined tastes. Much evil can be done in the absence of barbarism.  
  
A beeping sound made Luke spin, stopping his wildly flailing arms and bellowing screams of glee. As the hell god turned to grab the small device on his belt, his beer upended on Draconius, covering the elder one in smooth, amber liquid.  
  
Draconius stood, eyes ablaze, waiting, wanting one false move so that he could challenge this hell god to power over this dimension. One flaw in his rule itself other than just being rather annoying. But Luke just shrugged. "Sorry, Drac. Didn't see ya there."  
  
"Been here the whole time," Draconius seethed as Luke released the device from his belt, unfolding the metal into his hand and making a little humming noise. "Well," Draconius continued, "What is it?"  
  
"Well, first off, it's time to feed the dogs," Luke chirped. "Oh," he cooed, his finger rolling down the screen. 'And *I* have a date with a three breasted prostitute." He looked at Draconius. "She was on Jerry Springer before she kicked it. Sorry, but you're going to do something *else* for a while."  
  
Draconius took a deep breath, trying to control his boiling blood. "Anything of any importance?"  
  
"Hey, Candy is important," Luke snapped, nodding generously. "They're not small breasts."  
  
"About our *plan*" Draconius seethed.  
  
"Oh!" The hell god replied, hitting a button on the little device and bringing a screen into view. "Looks like she's just hanging out. Listening to something."  
  
"Can you tell what?" Draconius asked, trying to peer over Luke's broad shoulder at the picture.  
  
Luke turned the sound up and the wail of a small child and the shouting of several frightened voices filled the air. Luke cringed, turning the sound down. "Dunno. Kiddy took a nose dive?"  
  
Draconius studied the woman's face. She seemed confused. Afraid. Curious. He could almost feel her wondering, waiting, trying to figure out what was so familiar. It was too much like concern for the Old One's liking. "We will have to move faster."  
  
"What?" Luke asked, shaking his head. "Why? She's not in the open. Doing *just* fine." He waved his hand in the air as if their current predicament was nothing.  
  
"She's too close. She's starting to wonder and where there is curiosity, there is desire. Where there is desire, there is will. We must have her begin tonight."  
  
"After my date with Candy?" Luke asked, looking down at Draconius with large, puppy dog eyes.  
  
Draconius sighed, shaking with anger. "I don't suppose you'll last that long, anyway. Two organs at work and only enough blood for one. Be gone. But we will have to start tonight."  
  
Takina came into the examining room, shaking her head and smiling. Buffy sat on the table, Will in her lap as Spike paced the room like a jungle cat. She had to chuckle. This family needed a live in physician.  
  
"Well," she began. "It seems that our boy did break his wee arm," she cooed, lifting William up and kissing his cheek.  
  
"Is it bad?" Buffy asked, suddenly without anything to hold onto. Just as she thought it, Spike slid onto the table beside her, pulling her head against his shoulder.  
  
"It's a clean break," Takina said. "Not to mention, the bones are already starting to knit. We need to get this set pronto."  
  
Spike quirked a brow. "Accelerated healing?"  
  
"Looks like it," Takina said, cradling the boy against her. "Not quite up to Slayer or Vampire speed, but we took two sets of x-rays and the change was noticeable to me. Small enough that one of the regulars wouldn't have picked it up."  
  
"But you were looking for it," Buffy replied, nodding, the crown of her head brushing Spike's shoulder as she moved.  
  
"Well, might as well look when we have the opportunity." The doctor hoisted the now sedated little boy against her hip and looked at the couple. They looked war torn and heart sick. "It's just a broken arm," she commented, smiling. "Happens all the time. Kids fall."  
  
"It's Will's broken arm," Buffy said, sounding almost childlike.  
  
Takina smiled softly. "He'll be fine in. two weeks at this rate," she comforted. "Oh," She was walking through the door when she spoke. "Don't be too hard on Dawn. You know how it is watching them. It could've happened to any of us."  
  
Spike nodded, pulling Buffy closer and watching the Doctor walk through the doors.  
  
  
  
The house was crowded when Spike opened the door. Pony was laid out on the bottom step, growling until he saw his master's face, and then licking his hand in recognition. The Watchers sat in their chairs, Willow and Xander facing them on the couch, culling through dusty tomes. Emma sat on the floor, watching cartoons, pressed against Cyrus's chair.  
  
"Hey!" Willow said, hopping up as Buffy followed Spike through the door, a sleeping little boy with a bright yellow cast cradled against her chest.  
  
"Hi," Buffy whispered, letting Spike shut the door behind her.  
  
"How is he?" Xander asked, moving towards the door.  
  
"Broken arm. Split lip. Bloody nose," Buffy said quietly. "I should put him to bed."  
  
"Be right up, Pet," Spike said, kissing the little boy's head and turning back towards the group as Buffy made her way up the stairs. "Where are Glinda and the Niblet?"  
  
"Haven't you learned our names by now?" Xander complained half heartedly. Spike looked tired. He didn't want to press too hard.  
  
"Yes, *git*," Spike commented, annoyed. "Where are they?" He sighed.  
  
"Tara is making dinner. Dawn sort of locked herself in her room," Willow said, looking down. "I think she feels pretty bad about..."  
  
Spike nodded, cutting the sentence off. "Wasn't her fault. Nothing too serious. Anya?"  
  
"Work," Giles replied. "The nanny will bring Randy by on the way past, if that's all right with you."  
  
Spike nodded. "He can stay in Will's room. Buffy'll want to."  
  
"Daddy?" Emma asked, turning away from the television.  
  
Spike walked towards her, crouching down in front of the little girl. "What is it, Mite?"  
  
"Will can stay with me. If. if he's scared."  
  
"Thank you," Spike said quietly. "We'll see what your mum wants."  
  
"K," Emma agreed, nodding. "Is he okay?"  
  
"He'll be right as rain," Spike answered, smiling softly and tousling her blonde curls. "You been proper while we were gone?"  
  
"Yes, daddy," she answered, smiling.  
  
"Good," he answered, kissing the crown of her head. "I promised Will I'd take him to the Zoo when he's up to it. Would you want to join us manly types?"  
  
She grinned, her face lightening up. "Unhunh," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I'm sorry."  
  
"For what?" Spike asked, pulling away enough to look at her pretty eyes.  
  
She was quiet, worrying her lip. "I. I told Aunt Dawn to look at me. I was. I was trying to show her that I could swing by my knees." Her words trailed off.  
  
Spike rested his forehead against hers. "Not your fault, Mite. Not your Aunt Dawn's fault. Just an accident."  
  
"You.You're not mad?" Emma asked, her face heavy with guilt. Spike shook his head, his forehead still pressed to hers. "Is. is mummy?"  
  
"No," Spike said softly. "She's not mad. Just a little frightened is all."  
  
"Okay," Emma accepted, her nose rubbing his in an Eskimo kiss.  
  
"Stay put with the rest while I check on Will, then?"  
  
"Yes," she answered. "I'll be good."  
  
"Always," Spike answered, ruffling her hair again. He stood, walking back to the stairs. Xander and Willow were watching him with soft grins on their faces, like people who had seen something almost embarrassingly sweet. "What?" Spike huffed as he got to the stairs.  
  
"You're so whipped," Xander answered, still grinning.  
  
"You're one to talk," Spike shot back, taking off up the stairs.  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
The voice was meek. She sounded as if she had been crying for hours. Buffy turned to face her, eyes tired and wet. "Hey."  
  
"Is. is he alright?" Dawn asked, making her way slowly, tentatively, to the edge of the little boy's bed.  
  
Buffy looked down. It was actually kind of cute, now that it was over. Will was out like a light, wearing a t-shirt Takina had found for him at the hospital. It was black. That coupled with the ruffled blonde hair made him look so much like his dad. Buffy smiled. "He's going to be fine, Dawnie."  
  
"Good," Dawn whispered. "I. You know I."  
  
"Know you didn't mean it, Nibs," Spike said quietly, walking into the room. "Same would've happened if Buffy or I had been there."  
  
Dawn looked from Spike back to Buffy. Buffy nodded, agreeing. "Dawn, I didn't mean to snap at you before."  
  
"I know," Dawn said quietly. "I just. don't not trust me with them."  
  
"There is no one I trust more," Buffy said quietly, wrapping her arm around the quaking girl in front of her.  
  
"If it helps any, she'd likely have knocked my teeth out had it have been me," Spike commented, sitting down behind Buffy on the edge of the bed.  
  
'Would not," Buffy countered, shaking her head. Spike looked at her with an eyebrow raised. "Well, maybe one."  
  
"So... so you're not mad. at me?" Dawn asked, stroking Will's hair. She loved those kids as much as if they had been her own. The last thing she wanted to do was let Buffy or Spike down.  
  
"No, Niblet," Spike said softly, nuzzling the back of Buffy's neck as he spoke. He couldn't have been that close to her and not touched her.  
  
Dawn smiled. "The cast is as big as he is."  
  
"And yellow," Buffy chirped. "Worlds of yellow." Spike chuckled against her.  
  
"His choice," Spike commented.  
  
Dawn was quiet a moment, teeth rolling her bottom lip. "So. you really aren't mad? You aren't all worried that I'll take them out and let horrible things happen to them."  
  
"No," Buffy sighed. "But you will owe some baby sitting overtime."  
  
Dawn shrugged. "All right. If I have to."  
  
"Staying in tonight, though," Spike said softly, the hum of worry buzzing through his veins yet again. Something was coming. He could feel it. He could feel Buffy knew it as well.  
  
"Can I.?" Dawn asked tentatively.  
  
"You can patrol with Willow and Xander," Buffy agreed. "But try not to ruin my shirt."  
  
Dawn looked down sheepishly. "Oops."  
  
"Oops," Buffy repeated, smiling. She ran her hand over her sister's dark hair. "You all right?"  
  
"Yeah," Dawn smiled warily. "Until the next apocalypse."  
  
To be contd. 


	11. Tag Line

Good afternoon, All,  
  
I am sorry I missed Friday's release, however, there are some major not fun things going on in my world. It's been a terrifying and hard week for me, and I just didn't want to take that out on my writing. I hope you can understand and forgive me for my tardiness. Loss is just.hard.  
  
That being said, I will do everything I can to get the next chapter out on Wednesday, as normal. I will also do everything I can to get out three chapters next week. I owe you all that much.  
  
Suffice it to say that I could use all the feedback and support I can get now. If you like the chapter, please review it. I'm sort of lost and would love to be able to find myself here.  
  
So, that being said, please enjoy.  
  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
  
Title: Tag Line (Chapter Eleven of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: There's a Scooby Meeting at Buffy and Spike's. A plan is formed on where to begin. Xander, Dawn and Willow go on patrol and encounter a little trouble. Spike and Buffy find a little trouble of their own at home.  
  
Tag Line  
  
  
  
It had become quite a familiar scene over the years. Scooby meetings at Casa de Summers. Or rather Casa de Windsor now. Sandwiches spread out over the coffee table, with bags of chips and cans of soda and mugs filled with tea and blood. It had become normal. Not even Xander bothered commenting as Spike sat on the floor; Emma parked on his lap, drinking blood through a straw from a novelty mug. Only now it was his novelty mug. One of those mall numbers, black to conceal the contents, with "I love my Daddy," written on the side in colourful crayon letters.  
  
Emma had given it to him for his birthday.  
  
Yes, he'd been forced to admit the day that his mum had brought him into this world. But that day didn't seem right to him anymore. He simply wasn't that man.  
  
There was also the day that Drusilla had turned him. When he was born into this World as a Vampire. That one was not big on Buffy's top ten list of options.  
  
So, they compromised. They picked the date that he had become what he was now. When his heart had beat again and he watched his first sunset of the century from Buffy's back porch. The day he'd chosen to allow the man to win over the monster. The day before Emma was born.  
  
They'd picked a year almost at random. 1865 wasn't going to wash when written on legal documents. Like the paper he had signed that made it official that Buffy was his wife. And the financial forms he had co-signed for Dawn. And the birth certificates. And the bank statements. 28 October, 1971.  
  
He looked a few years older than Buffy now. So, by the state of California, William Windsor was thirty-seven years old and damned lucky that Rupert Giles had known a brilliant forger.  
  
"So, double whammy of the One-ness and Dracony-ass?" Dawn snarked, grabbing a diet coke and stretching out on the floor, her head on Spike's legs.  
  
"Language, Nibs," Spike corrected. Buffy smirked. Spike could dole out some pretty good potty mouth, but let anyone under the age of twenty-one even utter 'arse' and he was on the proper language warpath.  
  
Dawn blushed. "Sorry."  
  
"But, alas, accurate," Xander agreed, trying to bail the girl out. He leaned back against the sofa, third sandwich in his hand.  
  
Tara was snuggled against Willow on the couch. "So, what do you want us to help with?"  
  
"Tara, if you could help Giles and Cyrus tonight researching the One, then maybe Willow, Xander and Dawn can patrol," Buffy asserted. Spike smiled. Bossy chit.  
  
"Sure," Willow agreed, smoothing Tara's hair with soft fingers.  
  
"See anything scarier than a two fledgling night, exit stage left and get back here," Buffy continued from her perch on the floor, leaned against Spike's side. "Tara, maybe you could work out that barrier spell again?"  
  
Tara nodded. "Easy enough," she agreed cheerfully.  
  
"Xander, before you do anything, I'd call Takina and have her meet you here. You can stay in the guest room downstairs. If not, then you should take River home and stay with her. Cyrus or Giles can patrol," Buffy went on, concern for the more helpless members of the tribe coming to mind after her conversation with Spike.  
  
"Takina was coming here anyway to check on Will. I'll just have her grab stuff on the way over," Xander answered, standing to go to the kitchen and use the phone.  
  
"Randy Okay?" Buffy asked, turning her attention to her Watcher.  
  
Giles chuckled. "His nanny is a Jyrax demon and his mother would eviscerate anyone within two hundred yards. I believe he'll be fine."  
  
Spike had to smile, shaking his head. And they thought their brood was the best protected in Sunnydale. The One had nothing on Anya.  
  
"Good," Buffy commented, still all business. "So, then Spike and I are officially taking the night off."  
  
"No research?" Giles asked, only half serious.  
  
"Only research that I'm doing is in my bed," Buffy blurted, rubbing her eyes. Spike raised an eyebrow at her. The tantalizing thought come codeword of yummy research, echoed through his mind.  
  
Buffy smiled, blushing slightly. "I meant of the inside of my eyelids. Research of the backs of my eyeballs," she corrected.  
  
"Yeah, because you're all about going to sleep at nine," Dawn snarked. "With Spike," she added with a sly grin.  
  
''Nibs," Spike growled under his breath.  
  
"Shall we work in the basement, then?" Cyrus asked, barely concealing a devious smile.  
  
"No," Buffy whined frustrated. Did they really all think that she could not spend an evening in her bed with Spike without taking advantage of the situation? The thought hung there for a second before she let out a resigned sigh. "Can't I just be going to sleep?"  
  
"You could," Tara agreed, grinning and trying to help her out.  
  
"I'll make sure she's off to dreamland in mere moments," Spike added, honestly just suggesting he'd settle her in before going to sleep himself or giving up to help research.  
  
"I'm sure you will," Xander mumbled, returning to the room with a soda in his hand. God, he hated the fact that they were so happy. Not because he wasn't. Not for any reason, really. Just .old habit.  
  
Spike smirked, shooting him a glare. "Takes a bloody lot longer to do what you're suggesting," he commented at Xander, his manliness slightly offended. There was the reason, Xander thought.  
  
"As much as I'm ...enlightened.by this demonstration of testosterone, suffice it to say that it's time that the patrol went...patrolling, and the research party moved to.wherever we shall research and we let Buffy and Spike go off to bed," Giles gushed, removing his glasses and swiping them on the tail of his oxford.  
  
Buffy looked at Spike. Spike was staring at Giles, a contented look on his face. He bit his lip. Don't do it, Buffy thought. Too late.  
  
"Why I never knew you cared," Spike snarked. "Did you hear that, Pet.? We've daddy's approval."  
  
"I." Giles stuttered, replacing his glasses and pushing them up his nose.  
  
Spike wasn't about to let him off that easy. "Off with us, then," Spike continued, standing and pulling Buffy up from the floor. He scooped her up in his arms. "Let me ravage you despite the house full of.Scoobies and tiny tots."  
  
The sarcasm dripped from his lips as he let Emma climb onto his back from the side of the chair. But no, he wasn't done yet. "As soon as we put the winsome babe to bed, we will be sure to make daddy proud."  
  
Buffy broke down into a fit of giggles, shaking her head. "Really, just going to bed.. To sleep."  
  
Spike winked as he carried his girls up the stairs.  
  
"So, why do you think that they didn't want to patrol?" Xander asked, flexing his hand around the stake as the three of them walked down the relatively quiet path.  
  
"Probably, Will," Dawn sighed, her eyes darting back and forth. What she didn't have in strength, Spike and Buffy had taught her to make up for in alertness.  
  
Willow wrapped an arm around her. "It's not your fault, Dawnie."  
  
She sighed again, this one full of resignation. "That's what they said. But he's still all. yellowed up.because I didn't watch him well enough." She paused a moment, scanning her surroundings. "I mean, what if there had been a demon or something there. It could have taken Will right off the swing and I would have missed it. You know how fast."  
  
"Most of them stick with the dark," Xander commented. "I know our lives are full of exceptions, but as a rule, the whole 'creatures of the night' thing is pretty accurate."  
  
"I think," Willow began, "That they may have just been tired. Or.or bored. This whole patrol every night, save the World gig has to get a little old."  
  
Dawn chuckled. "Have you met my sister? All about the demon slaughter."  
  
"I can think of one demon she never slaughtered," Willow retorted, smiling.  
  
"He doesn't count," Dawn answered. "Besides, he's not *really* a demon."  
  
Xander shook his head. "He's still a Vampire, Dawnie. He just. God, help me. Did an amazing thing. Got all miraculous and Chosen One on us." He stopped, taking in the two girls' smirking faces. "It was so much easier with the abject, senseless hate," Xander sighed.  
  
"And she never slaughtered the other ones either. Like.like Takina. Or.or Anya. And all of the little kiddies are half demon. She's only part about the demon slaughter."  
  
"She *knows* all of them. Or is related to them," Dawn reasoned. "Other than that..."  
  
"How about Clem?" Xander answered, still amazed, amused, and somewhat disgusted that he was defending the demon population. "I mean, she never tried to kill him."  
  
"Clem's a big pussycat," Dawn answered.  
  
"And Spike is not?" Willow answered, knowing they had won. "All I am saying, Dawnie, is that Buffy isn't about just her job anymore. She kills the bad guys at night and plays mom during the day and if she had to choose, I think I could guess which one she'd pick."  
  
Dawn raised an eyebrow. "You think?"  
  
"Have you met Spike?" Xander shot back. "All compact and muscular and doting and give her everything she wants." The girls looked at him again, amused grins on their faces. "Oh, I *so* miss abject hate."  
  
"Seriously, Dawn," Willow began again. "I mean, you lived with them. You know it better than we do. She'd give up her powers if she had to make a choice. No doubt. Not just Spike, but Emma and Will. She's not all about the job anymore. Hence, it could become boring on occasion. Not to mention, she probably wants to stay near Will and get some sleep."  
  
"With Spike," Dawn contributed her voice devious. "You said it. I lived with them."  
  
Willow shook her head again. "So, no big. We patrol. We should offer to do it more often. Maybe like once a week or something."  
  
"And leave Spike and Buffy violence free that often? Then they'd start killing each other. Or. or . Oh God, I don't want to think about that. No more little blonde babies," Xander sighed, really wishing things were different. Well, not really.  
  
"Well, once in a while," Willow chirped, agreeing.  
  
"Speaking of," Dawn said, now smiling and chipper once again. Mood swings were something of which she had become the master. "I overheard part of that little conversation after Christmas dinner."  
  
Xander looked at Willow, then back at Dawn. "You...you talked after I left."  
  
"Sometimes, Xander, we do that," Dawn snarked, giving him her best Spike smirk. "I mean, what with the mouths and the other people."  
  
"I mean, about important stuff," Xander continued, now genuinely curious. Willow walked wordlessly ahead. This was *not* a conversation she wanted to have until she'd figured it all out and at least talked to Oz.  
  
"It wasn't that important," Willow lied, still looking straight ahead.  
  
"Not important!" Dawn answered, her whole body tensing up. "What are you talking about? I mean, that is like life changing important."  
  
"How much did you hear, Dawnie?" Willow asked, turning her head.  
  
"And I ask, what is all life changing that best friend knows nothing?" Xander blurted, stopping in his tracks. The girls stopped with him.  
  
Willow sighed. "It's important, but I'm not. How much did you hear, Dawn?" She repeated.  
  
Dawn sighed. "Spike saw me and gave me the evil eye after the first few minutes. I didn't hear much. Just the all important life changey tension."  
  
"Oh," Willow sighed, beginning to walk again. "Oh."  
  
"Oh, what?" Xander said. "Spill."  
  
"I. well, Tara and I.well."  
  
Out of nowhere, a Vampire appeared about ten feet in front of them, growling like a wild dog. Dawn looked around quickly. No others. Just a frisky little loner. This was nothing.  
  
"Hold that thought," Dawn began, rushing at the Vampire. Xander tore after her, the thought of what Spike might do to them coming in second only to the thought of what Buffy might do if they let her get hurt.  
  
"Dawn!" Xander called as she jumped, pushing both legs up and landing a heck of a double footed kick to the Vampire's chest. I didn't knock him half way across the graveyard, like it might of with Buffy or Spike, but it did send the thing to the ground in a heap. Xander stopped, eyes wide open. "Good shot, Dawnie."  
  
"Stake!" Dawn called, realizing she had dropped hers. Xander tossed his through the air and she caught it without looking. Okay, so there was a little bobble. "Hasta la vista, baby," she called into the night like the fierce warrior that she was and plunged the stake into the stunned Vampire's heart. Willow wasn't sure if the creature was stunned that he had been kicked in the chest by a human and knocked down, or at the amazing cheesiness of the last words he had heard in this dimension.  
  
Dawn slapped her hands together, watching dust fly off into the moonlit air. "Another one bites the dust," she commented smiling.  
  
Xander shook his head. "That was. really well done," he began. "Looks like you paid attention in your lessons," he continued jokingly. "But I think."  
  
"We need to work on your witty repartee," Willow finished. "And we've gotten really good. Years as Scoobies so we've learned some good ones."  
  
Dawn frowned, walking back towards them. "You didn't like The Terminator one?"  
  
Xander wrapped an arm around her. "Great movie. Old movie. Need to update. That's the problem slaying with Spike. All stuck in the eighties." There, he thought. That felt better. Make fun of Spike for his ancientness.  
  
"Don't worry," Willow comforted. "You keep training and we'll work on your tag lines."  
  
  
  
"Since when is she little miss independence, I can get ready for bed on my own," Buffy huffed, closing the door on Emma's room. She had insisted that she could tuck herself in and that they should worry more about Will. Very maturely, Buffy thought. A mature five year old. The thought scared her. Emma had pouted endlessly until she had gotten her goodnight kiss from her father, then took her bunny and strode to her dresser to find pajamas, leaving her parents to stand and stare and then have no choice but to leave her to her little girl nightly rituals.  
  
"Since her mum's the Slayer," Spike snarked. "Didn't think she'd turn up a wilting violet."  
  
"But she's five," Buffy sighed, walking down the hall to check on Will. Spike chuckled.  
  
"Bet you told Joyce a thing or two when you were that age," he commented, remembering the woman fondly. For someone he hadn't known all that well for all that long, she had certainly made an impact on his memory and her death had left a hole in his heart.  
  
Buffy smiled. "Yeah, I guess I did." She was silent a moment, thinking. The door to Will's room was open and the faint glow of his Eeyore nightlight spilled in a purple splash onto the carpet. "It's weird being on this end of things."  
  
"The parental bit?" Spike asked, coming up behind her. She stared at the purple glow, lost in thought.  
  
"Yeah," Buffy answered. "I mean, good weird. But now I get why my mom was always worried. You know?"  
  
"I know," Spike answered softly, burying his face in her hair and drinking in her scent. "In point of fact, I still worry about you for her."  
  
"That's different," Buffy answered, grinning, her hand reaching behind and resting on the back of his neck. His chest was pressed tight to her back and she could feel his warmth.  
  
"It's not," he said softly, nuzzling her ear. "We both love you."  
  
Buffy sighed, knowing it was true. Glad every day that it was real. She took a step, letting her hand drop and giving Spike room to follow. Slowly, she turned the corner, peeking into her son's bedroom. She stopped, her whole body vibrating.  
  
It took Spike a moment to realize she wasn't shaking in fear, rather she was chuckling. His eyes darted around her shoulder, trying to see what she was seeing.  
  
William was curled on his side, sound asleep. What made Buffy chuckle was the cast. The huge yellow monster that took up the little boys' arm was draped over River, who was curled in front of him like a kitten. Xander had wanted to put her to sleep, but didn't want her alone in the basement. Spike had suggested sticking her in with Will. They were toddlers. What kind of mischief could they cause together?  
  
Well, Buffy thought. None, really. But Xander would have a fit if he could see this. Spike's son was curled in a ball around Xander's daughter, and even injured, he was holding her protectively. Buffy had to laugh. Where was the camera when you wanted it?  
  
"This will not make Harris warm and fuzzy," Spike commented, insanely amused at the thought. "Although that, in and of itself, will fill my chuckle quotient for years to come."  
  
Buffy leaned her back against his chest. "God, bump this forward sixteen years or so. He'd have a cow.'  
  
"I'd have a *herd*, were it Emma," Spike defended, but still amused by the thought.  
  
Buffy shook her head. "Not just that. I mean, they could be all married off and sleeping in the same bed but Xander would freak just because."  
  
"My son and his daughter. The thought has sinister appeal," Spike snarked, nipping at Buffy's ear.  
  
"The horrors of that wedding," Buffy agreed.  
  
"That *he'd* have to pay for," Spike contributed.  
  
"The Apocalypse will come," she joked, again wrapping her arm behind her and touching his warm neck. "But, in the old here and now, they look awfully comfy. Maybe we should just leave them."  
  
"Give us a bed to ourselves," Spike encouraged. "Not to mention, the pleasure of hearing Xander's reaction later."  
  
Buffy had to giggle. "We leave them, then. And do some cuddling of our own."  
  
Spike backed out of the room, pulling her with him. He could feel her exhaustion and something else. Worry? "You all right, Pet?"  
  
She walked towards the door; her body still conformed to his. "Yeah, just thinking."  
  
"Bout what?" He asked, following her into the bedroom and shutting the door behind him.  
  
She was quiet a moment, standing in their darkened room. "Mom," Buffy finally said, her voice so quiet it was barely audible. "I wish she could have seen them. Seen this."  
  
"I know, Love," Spike whispered, turning her towards him and brushing her hair from her cheeks. "Like to think she does. Just, somewhere a little kinder."  
  
Buffy smiled. "I feel her a lot. I.I've been thinking about her a lot lately. I mean."  
  
The thought struck him. She had been in his thoughts of late as well. Maybe it was Christmas. Seeing the kids and the tree and Buffy only having her Watcher/surrogate parent. Maybe it was more. "Dunno, Pet. Sometimes it's like that with people we've lost."  
  
"Yeah," she agreed, resting her head on his chest. She stopped, just listening to him breathe. "Spike?"  
  
"What, Love?"  
  
"Do you think we'll ever see her again? I mean, when we die?"  
  
Spike was thoughtful for a moment, not sure how to answer. But it felt right. "One day, Pet. One day we'll see her again. Let her know bout our life. But I imagine she already does."  
  
"Good," Buffy whispered, placing a gentle kiss just above the collar of his shirt. "Now take me to bed, you fierce warrior."  
  
To be contd. 


	12. California Dreaming

Good evening, All,  
  
Well, I did manage to get one chapter out on time. Alas, it looks like I will only be able to get out one more this week. Look for it Saturday or Sunday. Real Life is giving me a beating at the moment and the muse is all pent up and frustrated. Possibly, she needs a Spike!Bot.  
  
I want to thank you all for the lovely cards and emails wishing me well and supporting both my writing and my struggles with life. Your outpouring is simply amazing and something that I will always remember and for which I will be forever grateful.  
  
All I ask is that you please be patient, and that you tell me what you feel about the work. I need your guidance and your support more than ever.  
  
Many thanks to you all.  
  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
  
  
  
Title: California Dreaming (Chapter Twelve of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Buffy and Spike share a dream that terrifies them both. But why? And what brings it on? Spike recounts the prophetic vision to Giles in order to sort it out. before it's too late.  
  
  
  
California Dreaming  
  
She stood, her white cloak now soiled and dusty from lying in the shed. Oil and grease from the lawnmower had seeped into the fabric and her skin. But it didn't seem to faze her. In life, she would have never been out in public in such condition. Now, it didn't matter.  
  
The part of her that cared was just.gone.  
  
The window was above her. There was a worn spot on the ground, under the tree, where someone had stood before her. Waiting. Watching. Staring up at the same, empty, dark, glass and hoping for a miracle. She was not the bringer of such things. No miracles here.  
  
Just confusion and pain.  
  
Her arm rose as if of its own volition, pointing like some ancient prophet of the window of the One. Only, the One was meaningless to her. All of it was. Some niggling doubt in the back of her mind said that what was behind the window might be. But the One, that thing that she'd been sent to scatter, was just a thing. A thing that needed to be dealt with. Not that she knew why.  
  
Not that she cared.  
  
The dragon coiled on her bracelet glowed once again. A deep, fiery, red. The colour of blood and death. It shone and danced, blinding her. Still, her arm pointed at the window as if aiming a gun. She might as well have been. This would do much worse.  
  
The glow grew and turned into a serpent. A glowing, red serpent, to be exact. One full of fire and fury, silent in its slithering approach to the darkened glass. Her hand passed through its tail as the creature coiled around her wrist, tethering itself to her. It wasn't real. Then again, what was? What was real anyway?  
  
The serpent passed through the glass as she watched, sliding its empty, glowing form into the house. She watched it, head tilted, waiting. For what, she didn't know. But the answer came when the entire room became bathed in that same red glow, and she could hear a little gasp from inside.  
  
The serpent snapped back, recoiling into her wrist. She stood, watching as the flow faded like a cigarette put out by a giant. And then she moved. Slowly walking back towards the shed, silent on surreal feet. It was done. Or at least this part.  
  
The oil and grease were calling her home.  
  
  
  
Spike could feel her there. In the dream. It wasn't as if he could touch her or actually see her beautiful eyes staring back at him. But he could sense that Buffy was there. Sense her all around him, just as he did every moment of his existence as it had become. Always next to him. Every day.  
  
It was like falling through time. It started by waking up. Only he didn't. And he fell through all the yesterdays of this existence and every other until he reached the First. That one moment where it all began.  
  
Huddled next to the fire, he couldn't have been that much older than William or Emma. Maybe five. Six at best. Clinging to her hand. They were One. Always One. Since they came to the Earth. And until they would leave it.  
  
He could feel his childish palms sweating, his grubby fingers wrapped through hers. They had taken daddy away. Mummy too. It was just them. That was all that was left. But they were One and they could beat anything. That's what the man said. That is what the lights told them when they came.  
  
But the darkness came that night. By the fire. They held hands until the darkness took him away. He screamed. God, he screamed, watching her fade into the distance becoming smaller and more alone with every step the darkness took. Smaller. More frail. More alone. And he cried. Cried his soul into the night. Until it was gone.  
  
And then the death began anew.  
  
Like a clock righted, time began to spin forward again until he was waking up. Only he still wasn't. And now the paths had joined. But they were also crossing. He had taken part of her. She had taken part of him. But did it go too far? Did it know how to stop?  
  
She stood before him as she looked now, dressed in white. So beautiful and perfect, like that night on the beach. His hand caressed her face and her eyes slid closed. When they opened again, they glittered yellow.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
She could see every night of her life. And every night of every other. Although seeing wasn't the word. Feeling. She could feel them pass with their anger and bliss, their joy and sorrow. Things she had never seen before but felt so familiar. Places she had never been, but were home.  
  
Maybe because she could feel he was with her.  
  
Home was not a place. It was a feeling. A need. A heart's desire. She could feel him there and the need fulfilled. So, she was home.  
  
Time stopped, and she opened her eyes. A fire. She could feel a small hand in hers. A child's hand. She was a child. She looked a lot like Emma. Buffy was afraid to turn her head because *they* were coming. If she moved, they might see them. But she knew he was standing next to her, holding her hand. They were all that was left.  
  
She clutched his hand, holding on for dear life. Knowing. Waiting. But the darkness came and they weren't big. They weren't strong and Mommy and Daddy were gone. They took him. She wailed as she watched them carrying him off, slung over a shoulder. Watched him screaming and crying and reaching towards her. Others held her back. She couldn't follow. Her heart was torn from her chest. And he was gone into the shadows.  
  
Time spun forward again. The feelings of her lives were back, only home was gone. He was gone. Her hands felt tight and empty. The clock slowed again until the scenery became familiar. Her life, or something like it.  
  
She stood in white before him. Her hair bundled atop her head. He was so handsome in that shirt. And his eyes were pools waiting for her to dive in. Welcoming her. Making her safe. The look on his face was perfect, unbridled love. Happiness. She looked at him for a second, her head tilting. Feeling the flames lapping at her dress.  
  
Her eyes slid closed and it took her like a shot of adrenaline. Blood. Lust. Anger. Violence. All of those parts she had hidden away and that he had fought to make things right. She wanted to kill, to eat. She needed to eat. Her features tightened and her head throbbed, her blood thrumming with power.  
  
When she opened her eyes, he gasped.  
  
She screamed.  
  
  
  
"Spike!" Buffy screamed, sitting bolt upright in bed. She was sweating, her heart pounding in her chest. "Oh God."  
  
His eyes shot open at the sound of her voice. The nightmare. He knew. He had been there. But she didn't know he saw. "Buffy?" He asked, sitting up next to her.  
  
Buffy turned to look at him, her eyes large and afraid. She was so beautiful. She stared at his face for a moment like a child. Waiting to see if it was safe to cry. His heart broke as her eyes welled up, spilling big, salty drops down her cheeks. She looked like Emma when she cried. Vulnerable and small and helpless.  
  
The Slayer. Helpless.  
  
"S'alright, Pet," Spike whispered, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. She turned, dazed, and buried her head against his chest. Buffy sobbed, her body trembling in his arms, shaking like a frightened animal. "S'just a dream, Love."  
  
But it wasn't. Somewhere he knew it wasn't.  
  
Her eyes focused up at him, slowly, as if it were the most painful thing in the universe to look at him. Or maybe to let him look at her. "You were there, weren't you?"  
  
Spike wasn't sure how to answer. He wasn't sure where the dream ended and the memories began. He nodded. "I was, Love." His fingers stroked her hair, trying to calm her hitching breaths.  
  
"That was us, wasn't it?" She asked. Spike thought a moment. He wasn't Giles. Didn't pretend to have all the answers rolled into one neat package.  
  
"Dunno, Love. But it could be," he answered quietly, still cradling her to his chest.  
  
Buffy clung to him a moment, feeling his heart beat under her ear. "At the end. I... I was..."  
  
Spike squeezed her, burying his face in her hair. "S'not real. Never going to happen. Won't let it, Love."  
  
"A Vampire?" She asked. She didn't want to say it. He didn't want her to say it.  
  
"No, Pet. Something else," Spike whispered. But it wasn't.  
  
"I felt it," she whispered, her voice as soft as a child. "I wanted blood. I wanted." It was too much to say. To horrible to even let escape from her mind.  
  
Buffy stared at him with enormous, frightened eyes. Never. Never would he let her live with what he lived with. His hand caressed her face again, his thumb tracing her cheekbone. "We'll suss it out, Pet. Trying to tell us something, that's all. It's not real. All right?"  
  
"How... how can you know?" Buffy whispered, desperately wanting to believe him, but afraid to ignore what the dream had told her. Had told them.  
  
Spike smiled, his blue eyes dancing. "Because you're everything they're afraid of. Not a one would take on the likes of you." He had hoped that it would be enough to comfort her. At least until he could figure it out. She had enough to worry about with Draconius and with the tots. She didn't need to worry that she would be turned right under his nose.  
  
Buffy chuckled. "You did," she whispered, brushing a tear from her face with the back of her hand.  
  
"No one ever accused me of being bright, Pet," Spike snarked, brushing his lips against hers. "Besides. I know you. Know you better than the Powers ever could. Think you'd probably march your way up there yourself if they ever tried to turn you into anything but what you are."  
  
Buffy let her head rest on the smooth lines of his chest, her sobs trailing off. "What do you think it means, Spike?"  
  
Spike sighed, settling back down on the bed and drawing her with him. She curled against his naked form, her leg thrown over his thighs. "I don't know. But I think it might be time we actually asked Rupert and Cyrus to find out what the One really is. Besides interesting 'lil powers."  
  
She looked up at him, eyes slyly sparkling. "You mean like this?" She asked, letting her mind wander to a particularly naughty place. Spike purred, his eyes slipping closed.  
  
"Umm... just like that," he said, his hands stroking her bare back. "As much as I find it... useful... I imagine there's a reason for it."  
  
"Other than this?" Buffy asked, her lips tracing his jaw and her mind pushing him a step further.  
  
Spike tensed his body suddenly on fire. "Hell with it. Who needs a greater purpose?"  
  
"You have the energy for this?" Buffy whispered in his ear, her tongue tracing his earlobe and setting fires in its wake. "I mean, what with the massive amount of demon slaughter and the nightmares and recovering from the big holiday shindig, I don't want to wear your old bones out." Really, it wasn't about sex at all. She needed him close. Needed to latch on.  
  
Spike opened one eye, arching an eyebrow at her curiously "You know you're asking for it, Slayer."  
  
She giggled, the tension escaping like air from a tire. "You couldn't handle me."  
  
"That's it," Spike huffed, spinning her and tossing her on her back in one fluid movement. "You're going to regret that."  
  
His lips trailed down her cheek, her jaw, her shoulder. "Is this punishment?" Her voice was still laced in fear, but she had found her home again. Even if only for the night.  
  
Spike smiled against her skin. "Right, Pet. It's, uh, tongue lashing."  
  
"I'm a bad girl," Buffy whispered as she sank into bliss.  
  
  
  
It was almost daylight. Buffy was dead to the world, in a manner of speaking, curled against him. Her face was gentle, a half smile playing on her lips. Still, after time and life, she was his golden goddess. Softly, he let his lips brush her forehead and gently disentangled himself from her.  
  
Spike slid into his pajama bottoms, silently slipping from the room. Emma's door was shut tight. He walked towards it, letting it click open softly under his grip. Emma was curled up in a ball in front of Dawn. He had forgotten the younger Summer's girl room was probably over run by Harris's. Still, it was rather sweet the way that his daughter had curled into his Niblet's arms. Not independent. Not yet.  
  
Slowly, Spike made his way to Will's room, peeking in through the open door. He half expected to see River missing, now that Xander was certainly home and he and his lovely wife had taken up residence in the basement. But William was still lying with the pretty little girl sheltered under him. Fast asleep.  
  
Spike's mind was rattled as he made his way downstairs to the kitchen. He may have played it off to Buffy, but the dream was real. It was there, trying to tell them something. If not, then why would they have shared the nightmare? He closed his eyes, padding through the dining room on bare feet and the glare of yellow eyes, *her* yellow eyes, haunted him.  
  
"You're awake?" A familiar voice asked. Spike's eyes fluttered open to see Giles still huddled over the kitchen counter, looking disheveled and exhausted.  
  
Spike stared at the Watcher a moment. "Thought you would've gone home."  
  
"I thought about it," Giles answered frankly. "But something told me I needed to stay here. Anya called and she was home with Randy and told me it was all right if I..."  
  
"Why did you think you should stay?" Spike asked, interrupting Giles and beginning to make coffee... Blood seemed utterly unappetizing this morning.  
  
Giles removed his glasses, laying them on the counter top. "I don't know. I just. I was about to leave and I felt something. Something."  
  
"Terrifying," Spike muttered, pulling two mugs from the cabinet.  
  
"Yes," Giles agreed, quirking a brow at the Vampire. "Why? Did you."  
  
"Nightmare," Spike answered, the smell of coffee beginning to fill the room.  
  
"What kind of nightmare?"  
  
Spike was silent. He didn't want to say it. He didn't want to articulate that kind of horror, even to her Watcher. But he had to. "Buffy," Spike said quietly. "She had it as well."  
  
Giles was quiet, turning back towards the books on the table. "Both of you shared a vision?"  
  
"Not a surprise there, Rupert," Spike defended, leaning against the sink. "Share most things, nowadays."  
  
"Dreams?" Giles asked.  
  
Spike nodded. "More often than not."  
  
Giles chuckled. "Must make for some interesting conversations after certain fantasies."  
  
Spike shook his head quite seriously. "Can honestly say that my last Playboy playmate dreamscape was before Buffy and I. were together."  
  
"Hunh," Giles answered frankly, nodding. "But this one last night was."  
  
"Frightening," Spike answered, shuddering. "Lots of bits about the past which I am sure you'd love me to recount ad nauseam once I've gotten the house underway." It was a warning more than a promise. One that said to let him handle this at his own pace. "But the crux of it is, Rupert, she was turned."  
  
"Turned?" Giles asked, spinning towards the Vampire. Spike leaned over, pouring coffee into the mugs.  
  
"Turned," Spike repeated. "Won't let that happen. You know I'll never let that happen."  
  
"You can't always be there," Giles answered softly. He knew because he had tried.  
  
Spike sighed, handing the Watcher a mug. "I can and I will. Not going to let this one come to pass, Rupert."  
  
Giles nodded, understanding, but still weary. "Spike, we do need to pay attention to Slayer dreams. They're rather prophetic..."  
  
Spike glared at him for a moment. "I will protect her from it. Not a single one will get close enough to sink their sodding fangs into her. Won't let it happen."  
  
The Watcher stared at him, trying to make sense of it all. "You will fill me in on the vision in its entirety?"  
  
"Soon as I've got a handle on this day," Spike answered, taking a long draw of the hot liquid. "Need to suss it out myself."  
  
"I trust you will watch her back, Spike," Giles said, his voice quiet. "But we need to straighten out why this would happen. We need to be prepared."  
  
Spike wanted to argue, but knew the Watcher was right. Slowly, he nodded. A thought, a horrible one at that, came to mind. "Giles?"  
  
"Yes," the Watcher answered, sipping at his coffee.  
  
Spike was silent, thinking. "Anya is. protective of Randy, isn't she? Rather rough and tumble bird?"  
  
Giles smiled, nodding. "I wouldn't trust anyone more."  
  
"If anything happens.. If things get. Just..." Spike stumbled over the idea, but felt he had to say it. "If things get out of hand here, I want you to take Emma and William to Anya. Have her remove them somewhere we can't find them. "  
  
The Watcher's eyes grew wide. "Take. take your children?"  
  
Spike took a deep breath, filling his lungs with air. "I need to make sure they're safe, Rupert. If anything happens, promise you'll send them to Anya until it's safe again."  
  
Giles nodded slowly.  
  
This was more serious than he thought.  
  
To be contd. 


	13. Coffee Talk

Hello, All  
  
Well, I did manage to produce chapter thirteen by the end of the weekend, and hope to have fourteen out on Wednesday. However, I seem to be real life's punching bag at the moment and can make no other guarantees except to tell you that I truly want to continue this story and really want you to like it.  
  
I am thankful for the notes regarding Max. I wish I had spectacular news to report, but he is still in intensive care and they still do not know what is causing this to happen. There is no guarantee that he will come home. With everything else, it would be a reeling blow for me to also lose my dog. I run an animal rescue farm with family, and hold my four legged friends in the same regard as my two legged compatriots. Max is like my child and his serious illness and potential loss is definitely taking its toll on my sanity and my sense of purpose.  
  
Again, writing is an escape and I will continue. I just beg of you to stay with me and please let me know that this story is something you still want to read.  
  
Thank you again.  
  
Nimue  
  
  
  
Title: Coffee Talk (Chapter Thirteen of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Spike, Cyrus and Giles try to sort out the shared vision of the night before. Something happens to Buffy before they are able to stop it. Willow and Tara discuss their decision with Oz.  
  
  
  
Coffee Talk  
  
  
  
Buffy had not been herself all day. The dream had scared her good and proper, Spike thought as he watched her from the doorway of the kitchen. She was sitting on the couch, curled in a ball, watching the tots play on the living room floor. Normally, she would be down in the middle of it. But today, she kept herself closed, like a guardian angel watching from above, rather than a participant in her own existence.  
  
Spike turned back towards the kitchen. Giles and Cyrus had taken over the counter with dusty tomes and piles of note pads. Willow had pulled a chair up and was typing furiously on her laptop. Tara was making lunch. Spike had sent the Harris' home. They might actually be a bit safer there for once.  
  
"What have you found?" Spike asked, settling onto a stool uneasily.  
  
Cyrus sighed. "It seems that the Prophesy of the One is written in an even more archaic text than most," he began. "It has been difficult."  
  
Spike wanted to growl at him, but even with his own proficiency for ancient languages that had come from the joining, he couldn't make heads or tails of the text. "Have you found any-bloody-thing?"  
  
"Willow found a partial translation matrix," Giles answered, trying to make his voice calm and somewhat soothing, despite his frayed nerves. "However, now it is closely akin to reading a book where every other word is smudged. Still, we've hope."  
  
The Vampire took a deep breath, trying to quell his anger. "Is there any mention of . this?"  
  
"Not so far," Cyrus answered. He looked up at Spike, smiling slightly. "Look at it this way. If the Prophesy was a book, the joining is near the end. The finale. What happens next has never been written. As if someone skipped a few chapters and went straight to the story of the Peacemaker."  
  
Spike furrowed his brow. "Not sure I follow."  
  
Giles stood, pouring more coffee into his mug and then filling the others as he spoke. "Spike," he began softly. "You told us that in the vision last evening, the first place that you traveled was to a place with fire where both you and Buffy were children. An ancient place."  
  
"Right," Spike answered nodding, remembering it as if it played in his head as they spoke.  
  
"We believe that to be the First," Giles continued, setting the coffee pot back onto the burner and settling onto his stool again. "And the children, you and Buffy, were the twins then. The original two."  
  
Spike stopped, thinking. "Mummy and Daddy."  
  
"Were gone," Cyrus completed. "When the darkness separated you, they had to remove your parents. The father," he continued, nodding at Giles, "And the mother."  
  
"Anya," Giles contributed. "Really quite natural we found each other again when."  
  
"Tales of the glory days past once this is sussed out," Spike growled, shooting a glare at Giles and then turning his attention back to Cyrus. "Go on."  
  
"From that moment, when the darkness removed you from her that first time, the One had never been rejoined. Until now," Cyrus answered.  
  
Spike sighed, letting his head fall into his hands. "Would you get to the bloody point?" It was more a sigh than a snap. There was too much on his mind to be fussing with semantics.  
  
Willow cleared her throat. "Spike?"  
  
Spike turned his head just enough to eye the redhead without pulling his head from his hands. "Got something to add, Pet?"  
  
"I think what they are trying to say is that, um, there isn't much after the joining because it never happened before. Sort of like. Well, until we met you, there was little information about Slayers' last battles because, well, they didn't make it and their Watchers couldn't tell the tales. So, the prophecy only seems to be talking about what happened in the original joining and then what it would take for you to re-join," Willow stumbled through the words, trying to make it make sense. "I guess that they didn't really know what happened next because it never happened."  
  
Spike turned his head, laying his cheek in his palm and watching Willow. "Thank you."  
  
"For what?" Willow asked, smiling brightly.  
  
"For telling me what these gits wouldn't and that's that you just don't bloody know," Spike responded, anger and resignation mixing in his tone.  
  
"I do believe," Giles interrupted, "That there are parts of the interim text that might explain what you saw in the vision. We just haven't seemed to be able to find them quite yet."  
  
Everything in Spike wanted to snap and verbally brutalize the Watchers, but he held his tongue. It wouldn't accomplish anything. Not even really make him feel better. At least not for long. "So, you think that there might be a clue as to what is happening, or what may happen, in the text?"  
  
"Yes," Cyrus answered. "But Spike, we cannot overlook the thought that this dream was a combination of two separate visions. A memory of the past and an unrelated vision of the future."  
  
Spike's head snapped up. "I won't let her be turned. Not a Vampire in this World could do that. Not with me around."  
  
Cyrus nodded, backing down a bit. "Just remember, Spike, to be particularly observant."  
  
"The more I think about it, the more I think that this is some aberration of the Prophesy. An anomaly. It was part of the original dream, correct? Fluid with the vision of the First?" Giles asked.  
  
"Yeah," Spike sighed. "One big, sodding nightmare."  
  
"Which tells me that it should be connected," Giles continued. "That there is a reason for this."  
  
Willow looked down at her watch and jumped a little with surprise. "I've got to go!" She stood, knocking the stool down and grabbing her coat. "I. I'll be back.I promise.. I just have.There's something.."  
  
Giles smiled softly at her. "Go. We'll be here when you're back."  
  
Spike snarled at that thought.  
  
Willow nervously grinned and took off towards the living room, passing Buffy and kissing her cheek as she ran past.  
  
"What was that all about?" Buffy asked, trying to smile weakly.  
  
Spike stood, walking over to her and wrapping his arms around Buffy's waist, his body settling against hers perfectly. She sighed involuntarily. "Red had an appointment. Not to worry, Pet. Got the rest of us slaving away."  
  
"It's all right," Buffy whispered, letting her head rest against his chest and closing her eyes. "Any luck?"  
  
"Not yet, Love," Spike answered, stroking her hair. "We'll suss it out. You know that."  
  
She moved her head back enough to look up at his crystal blue eyes. "I know." She paused a moment and then dragged her body away from his warmth. "Think I'm going to take the kids out back with Pony. I need some air."  
  
"Right then," Spike agreed, nodding. "They got their jackets on?"  
  
"I said the word out and they were in coats and shoes before I could stand," Buffy chuckled, feeling a little better. She clutched her sweater over one arm. Spike watched her. Her knuckles were white, her hands balled into little fists. He hated that she was frightened and there was nothing he could do to change it.  
  
"Let me get that," Spike said softly, loosing the sweater from over her arm and opening it up, helping her to put it on. He could feel the nervous energy flutter around her like terrified butterflies. Soon that fear would turn to anger. But for now, she was vulnerable. "You be all right?"  
  
Buffy turned back to face him, drawing the long, heavy sweater closed around her. She smiled, weakly. "Yeah." She took a deep breath and turned to the living room. "Well come on," she shouted to the kids. "You wanted to go out, right?"  
  
Two blonde heads tore at mock speed through the living room and to the kitchen, giggling all the way, brushing past their parents and bustling towards the back door. Spike shook his head, watching William try to keep his balance with that huge yellow cast strapped to his little body. "Got a bit of energy?" Spike asked sarcastically.  
  
"You have no idea," Buffy sighed, smiling and following the kids to the back door. She opened it into a beautiful day, the kids tearing onto the porch before she could finish opening the door. Buffy took a step and felt it. Her body felt.strange. Hot. Warmer than it was outside. Her skin was tight and burning. God, it burned. She took another step to the porch and took a breath, screaming.  
  
  
  
Tara sat in the corner booth of the quiet coffee shop. The outdoor mall was bustling, but the shop was dark and quiet. It seemed to be a rule of cafes. The people in the corner booth were there because it was private. They didn't want to be disturbed. They had words meant to be whispered only to each other.  
  
Willow smiled as she eased into the booth next to Tara. "Hey, baby."  
  
"Hey," Tara answered, leaning forward to kiss her lover's cheek. "How is everything with."  
  
"Buffy is all down and Spike is wound tight and ." The redhead sighed. "We couldn't figure it out."  
  
"You will," Tara encouraged, her smile so soothing and sweet. She took Willow's hands between hers. "You sure about.about this?"  
  
Willow took a deep breath. "Ready."  
  
"For what?" A familiar voice said, standing with his hand on the creaky faux leather of the booth. Both girls stared like fawns in the glare of high beams, but managed to smile. Oz returned it warmly, settling down across from them in the semi-circular booth.  
  
Willow blushed, deep and blood red, swallowing hard. "Oz, um."  
  
The waitress came to the table, a green apron tied neatly around her waist. "Get anything for you?"  
  
"Coffee," Willow muttered. "Lots. Um, and sugar."  
  
The waitress raised an eyebrow, smiling softly. "That's generally the stuff we have around here."  
  
Tara chuckled. "Two tall lattes and." she nodded at Oz.  
  
"Just a plain coffee flavoured coffee," Oz answered a smile in his voice. The waitress nodded, walking back towards the main seating area. "Will, you okay?"  
  
"F...fine," Willow stuttered, her hand suddenly hot and damp in Tara's. Tara squeezed it softly and smiled.  
  
"Oz," the usually shy girl began. "We called you, um..."  
  
"Because of the offer," Oz helped, leaning back in the seat and stretching his legs under the table.  
  
"Right," Tara answered, smiling and looking down for a moment. This was not going to be easy. But like all major decisions, once the cards were on the table, they were just cards. It would be easier once they said it. "We've decided to.to take you up on it."  
  
A mixture of expressions passed over the werewolf's face. Surprise, shock, interest, happiness, fear, lust.. Hold that one, he thought, wondering what their plan was. "Um, okay," he responded, nodding, his own palms beginning to get warm. "Good."  
  
Willow smiled nervously, her body twitching with nerves. "I think it was really. I think that you. It is a really nice thing you offered..."  
  
"Spike's idea," Oz answered, playing with the sugar caddy to disperse some of the nervous energy. "But thanks."  
  
"Still, it was you who agreed," Tara answered, still not quite meeting his eyes.  
  
The waitress returned to the table and set the cups down. She looked at the group for a moment and could feel the tension like a rubber band waiting to snap. No more witty banter at table seven, she thought as she nodded and walked away.  
  
Oz was thoughtful for a moment, now turning the mug back and forth between his palms. "How. I mean. what do you need me to do?"  
  
Willow and Tara looked at each other, uncertainty passing over their faces. They had talked about this a million times now, but when it came down to it, they didn't know how to make it all make sense. How to put it into words. Whether or not it was too crazy or too sane. "Um..." Willow stuttered.  
  
"Do you want me to go to the clinic and." The thought was a bit disturbing. Not that he hadn't done it at least a half dozen times. this month. but thinking about doing it in a clinical, sterile setting gave him a shot of nerves.  
  
Willow swallowed her body as tight as wire. Still, she clutched Tara's hand. "No," the redhead finally answered. "I mean, not unless you would rather."  
  
Oz chuckled. "We may be willing to do that at a moment's notice, but we'd rather have more than just ourselves involved," he stated, chuckling.  
  
Both girls blushed. "Oh," Tara said quietly, one hand wrapped around the warm coffee mug and the other around Willow's even warmer hand.  
  
"So you want to." Oz questioned, trying not to betray the appeal of the thought. These women belonged to each other and would never be anything but what they were. But still, they were hot.  
  
"Yes," Willow answered, a long breath escaping a sigh to go with the word.  
  
"Yes?" Oz asked, a little surprised and a whole lot happier. This would be far more interesting than the clinic. The sterile clinic. Why did the word sterile keep jumping to mind?  
  
"Yes," Tara agreed, nodding softly.  
  
"I see," Oz commented, leaning back against the booth again. "Um, you sure?"  
  
"Yes," Willow answered again, only able to make monosyllabic words out of her rattled thoughts. She smiled nervously.  
  
"Okay," Oz drew out, taking a sip of his coffee. "This is going to sound really. well, this . how do we do this?"  
  
Tara smiled, her grin brightening up the room. "I was hoping you could tell me," she joked, her voice thready and nervous.  
  
That took him off guard, Willow thought as Oz's eyes opened wide. "What.I. I thought that. well, I assumed that."  
  
"What?" Tara asked, taking her momentum and a little bit of courage.  
  
"That, if you decided. that.I figured. it would be Willow," Oz answered, flustered, his eyes darting from one woman to the other. "I mean, not that I mind. I mean, this isn't about me. but."  
  
"It will be," Willow answered, bailing him out and smiling reassuringly.  
  
Oz relaxed a bit, getting a hold on his reeling thoughts. He sighed, slumping into the chair. "I'm confused. She said."  
  
The women looked at each other a long moment... Finally, Willow spoke. "Oz, we're. we're a couple. Forever. That's not going to change. We.we thought about this so much.and we can't. we couldn't.."  
  
"Decide," Tara completed. "I mean, we got the how down, but the who."  
  
Oz quirked a brow, a sudden thought occurring to him. "What are you trying to tell me? Exactly."  
  
Tara looked at Willow. Willow looked at Tara. They both turned back to Oz. "That it's the package deal," Willow said nervously, a little nervous laugh escaping from the last word.  
  
The werewolf looked gob smacked, his eyes as wide as saucers and his heart pounding in his chest. He didn't think that they would go for it at all. If they did, they'd certainly make him go to the sterile clinic. The best he could have hoped for from the deal was a one-night walk down memory lane for him, and a baby for his ex. But now. "You're serious?"  
  
Tara smiled nervously. "I.I don't know much about."  
  
"It will double our chances," Willow blurted, trying to be reasonable. "I mean, if it even works at all."  
  
The blood was rushing out of Oz's brain as he tried to grapple with this one. Two beautiful women. One of which was completely untouched by a man and the other his first love. This was. did he fall asleep at home with Skinemax on again?  
  
"Oz?" Willow's concern came through in her tone.  
  
His eyes fluttered back to her. "Uh, yeah."  
  
"You all right?"  
  
He took a deep breath. "Can you run this by me one more time? I think I confused it with some movie I was watching."  
  
Tara blushed, her pretty face even prettier for the colour. "We'd like you.we want your help. We want to do this. And we want to do this together."  
  
Oz stared for a moment. Close, but he wanted to be sure that he wasn't the kid that thought he was getting the BMX for Christmas and ended up with a pink big wheel. "All three of us?"  
  
Willow nodded slowly, a little embarrassed, and, frankly, a little excited by the thought. "Yeah," she confirmed softly. "Would you still help us?"  
  
That got a chuckle from Oz. "Willow, I think you're confused on who's getting the gifts.."  
  
To be contd. 


	14. Nothing Looks the Same in the Light

Good evening, All  
  
Here is the latest installment of The One. The drama picks up a bit, but there is a healthy dose of shippiness to set it off:.  
  
I do hope you enjoy it and please, let me know. Feedback is my guide at the moment.  
  
And no, I haven't forgotten about W/T/O. How could I?  
  
Thanks again for all the support with my RL situation. Max would be really grateful too, after he was done licking my legs and barking at the sound my office assistant makes while I am typing in Word.  
  
As I am still fairly drained and off kilter, I cannot guarantee when the next chapter will be out, but my hope is by the end of the weekend.  
  
Thank you again.  
  
Nimue  
  
Title: Nothing Looks the Same in the Light (Chapter Fourteen of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Draconius and Luke revel in the first tangible success of their spell. The mysterious woman watches a strange floor show and is struck by the players. Spike deals with the repercussions of what happened to Buffy on the porch, and explains to her the consequences of what is happening.  
  
  
  
Nothing Looks the Same in the Light  
  
  
  
"Heeeeee," Luke giggled, doing a little jig at his place on the marble floor. He was in a red satin bathrobe, his hair mussed from what looked to be a wild ride with Candy. The monitor flickered before him, giving him a black and white view of the show through a peephole in the shed. Draconius stood on tip toes trying to see over his shoulder.  
  
"What's going on, you unimaginative git," Draconius snarled, hopping up to try and see the monitor over Luke's broad shoulders.  
  
"Oh, sorry short stuff," Luke replied, letting his arm fall down and out to the side. He was a taller man, with broad, muscular shoulders. Had he not been a hell god, he would have made quite a male model. As it stood, Luke could spend very little time still or things tended to get.dead.  
  
Draconius swallowed his ire at the remark and leaned over Luke's forearm to watch the monitor. A smile broke on his face watching the pretty little Slayer stand immobilized on her porch, screaming. There wasn't quite the floorshow he had hoped in that their little spell had not come into full force. He'd hoped for flames and smoke rising from her pretty peach skin, but he'd settle for the screams and that sort of dull, singed look. "The spell is growing in power," he said, musing at the sight of the woman standing on the deck, the two children barely visible on the bottom of the stairs, now crying up at their mother.  
  
"Growing?" Luke said, a little happy awe in his voice. "There's more?"  
  
The old one nodded, a sly smile breaking across his ancient features. "Oh, there is so much more."  
  
  
  
Spike's arm darted through the doorway, grabbing the hood of Buffy's long sweater and yanking her as hard as he could muster. Cyrus was around the counter in seconds, heading out the door and to the children so that Spike could figure out what had happened. Buffy still screamed, her face locked in a tight grimace as she stumbled backwards into the house. Giles stared, his eyes as large as saucers.  
  
It terrified him. That look of utter horror etched into her face as Spike spun her towards him. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her mouth pinched in a pained grimace; lines creasing her face and making her look so old and so tired. Spike held Buffy's shoulders, steadying her a moment while he figured out what to do. One hand rose to her, fingers stroking her cheek softly. "Buffy? Love?"  
  
Her eyes fluttered open and her face suddenly relaxed into the pretty young woman he knew so well. She blinked, her eyes trying to focus, trying to grab onto his and steady like a drowning person reaching for a life preserver. Her features were normal now except for a worried little crease in her brow.  
  
Buffy stared at him wordlessly, trying to fight it. Trying to make it not what it was, whatever that had been. But he could hear her screaming in her mind. The sun had burned her. The sun, the parent to which her spirit had been a child, had expelled her into darkness. Her heart raced, her pulse jumping in her neck. Spike nodded, understanding that she didn't want to say it. Didn't want to explain. Didn't want it to be real.  
  
Slowly, gently, he pulled the sweater from one side of her neck, inspecting her. Then the other. Both without letting the Watchers or the children see what he was doing. There was nothing but three older marks. Two on one side. One on the other. He nodded again, sliding his hands down her arms and pushing the sweater sleeves up beyond her elbows. Slowly, as if he was afraid of frightening her, he turned her hands, palm to the sky, in his. Her wrists were smooth and delicate, the now pale expanse of arm to her elbows unmarked. Vampires could feed on a human anywhere, but they preferred certain spots. Neck. Wrist. Elbow. He'd make it a point to check the rest of her as he drew her a bath.  
  
Giles finally spoke, his voice cracking. "What.what is it?"  
  
Buffy's eyes filled with unshed tears and her mind screamed now. Spike answered her without opening his mouth. Her Watcher needed to know to help. But not now. Not this second. Spike needed to take care of his own first. Gently, he pulled Buffy towards him until her head was buried in his chest and he could feel her body tense and hitch as she cried. "Migraine," Spike said, his eyes frightened as he looked at the Watcher. "Makes her eyes sensitive out of doors," he continued his voice bland and metered.  
  
"Oh," Giles responded, watching Buffy shudder against Spike's chest and Spike pull her closer against him. "She'll be all right then?"  
  
"Right as rain," Spike answered comfortingly, stroking Buffy's hair. But it wasn't. Nothing was right about this. Spike nodded curtly at the Watcher. "Would you be sure to keep an eye on Will and Emma with Cyrus? Think Buffy could use a hot bath and a nap."  
  
"Of course," Giles answered, the sound of the wood squeaking against the tile as he stood filling the room. "You will come back down and let us know how we can help?"  
  
Spike nodded, this time more sadly. "That I will. I just have to."  
  
"Of course," Giles repeated, watching Spike guide his charge from the room, her face still invisible from unwanted eyes.  
  
"Thank you," Spike answered quietly, his tone telling the Watcher that there was more, but now just wasn't the time.  
  
  
  
The woman stood, her face pressed to the crack between the metal door and the wooden wall of the shed. She couldn't see much from this angle. Not that what she saw meant a whole lot. More mortals. More little humans milling around and making her think. Making her brain ache trying to figure out what they were and why she was there and if she should know them from somewhere and if she'd care if she did.  
  
The girl screaming on the porch had been interesting. Forced the woman to cover her ears as she watched the pretty little blonde girl wiggle and shout, her voice full of pain. It sounded like the nights in the place she had been before this. When the new people came and they were screaming and the good-looking mean man tortured them. The sound was almost comforting.  
  
And then the handsome prince came back and saved the screaming girl. She had fallen quiet and all that was left was the sound of sobbing small people. Another man came out to watch the smaller ones, comforting them and cooing. Stupid sound, cooing. She couldn't really see the little ones. There was a girl. She was small but her spirit was huge. Like she was part of the sunshine. And a smaller one. There was something about him that itched the back of her brain. Niggled and twisted and burned. But he was just small and weak and had a bright yellow arm. Maybe he was half bird and she had seen that in the place before.  
  
Didn't matter anyway.  
  
  
  
He leaned over the tub, letting hot water fill it and adding capfuls of vanilla scented bubbles. He knew what she liked. He always knew.  
  
Buffy leaned against the counter, her robe closed tight across her chest. She'd undressed herself in the bedroom and then came in to meet him. She looked shaken. Worn. Her fingers dug into the fabric of the robe as she pulled it so tight around her it looked as if she might be able to make it go around twice.  
  
Spike turned, letting the tub fill, the steam and the sound infusing the room. He watched her, his face set in concern. She hadn't been attacked. Hadn't been bitten. He'd been with her almost all the time. He'd have noticed if she'd lost a pulse. If she'd died and risen. Buffy was half of him, literally. He should have known.  
  
He took a step closer and she tensed, hands clutching white knuckled at the terry cloth. Spike stopped, his eyes catching hers and she relaxed, just a bit. "It's me, Pet. All right?"  
  
Buffy nodded, trying to uncurl her hands and letting the sound of the water and the smell of the room relax her just a bit. "What.what if time went all crazy again, Spike? What if they took me and then made me. and set it all back to normal before we even realized it?"  
  
Spike cautiously approached her again. "Don't think you're a Vampire, Buffy," he said softly. That much was true. Her heart was racing, her breath pumping in shuddery streams from her lungs. There were some things happening that didn't add up, but she wasn't a Vampire.  
  
"Then what?" She asked, her eyes filling with tears. "Why?"  
  
"Dunno, Love," Spike answered softly, laying his hands on top of hers and squeezing gently. "We'll sort it out."  
  
Buffy nodded, the burning warmth of tears behind her eyes. "Promise?"  
  
Spike smiled softly. "Swear. You know, if nothing else, I'm good for my word."  
  
She smiled wearily back at him. "I know. That's not all you're good for though."  
  
Spike chuckled, gently pushing her arms to her sides. "Need to be sure, Pet. We need to be sure that you weren't bitten, all right? Don't think that's the case. Think you'd know. Think I'd know."  
  
"I thought you could only be claimed once," Buffy said quietly.  
  
His eyes shot to hers. "You can, Love. Not like that. " Spike stopped, sighing. She didn't know. As much as she knew about him, and about hunting Vampires, she didn't really get the whole levels of biting and reasons. Too much to explain while the bath was running, but he thought he'd set her mind at ease.  
  
"Love, a Vampire bites its prey for a few reasons. First, to eat," Spike said, his fingers sliding slowly down the front of her robe to the tie, trying not to startle her. She watched him intently, listening. "The second reason is for sex," Spike continued. "Lots of Vampires, and a right lot of humans, get their rocks off on the sensation."  
  
"Eww," Buffy commented, trying to smile. "I mean, like Ri."  
  
"Don't!" Spike snapped half-heartedly. "Never want to say that git's name again."  
  
Buffy tittered as Spike untied the robe, letting it fall open and exposing a small line of her creamy, smooth skin. "Back to the lesson," he continued, distracting her as he searched her quietly. "Third reason would be to turn someone. Make more."  
  
She tensed at the thought, convinced that was what had happened to her. Spike sensed it and stopped moving, catching her eyes again in his. Buffy stared for a moment and settled. Watching his eyes was like watching blue waves crash gently on the shore. They pulsed and dove and soared and sucked her in. "Okay," she whispered.  
  
"To do that," Spike began again, pushing the robe from her shoulders and slowly guiding it down her arms, "Bugger'd have to bite you, which, as you know, hurts, and force you to drink."  
  
"It only hurt at first," Buffy said, her fingers tracing the marks he'd left on the right side of her neck.  
  
Spike nodded. "Even with Peaches and that sodding poof Dracula, and especially with me, no one was going for the pain. It hurts, Buffy. A lot. When I . when we. I was gentle. Wasn't out to turn you into a Vampire, Love. Wasn't out to make you one with the darkness and pain. Wasn't really wanting to do it at all. If anything I was stealing your light."  
  
Her hand fluttered to his face as she stood naked in front of him. "I was giving it to you, " Buffy whispered, her thumb tracing along his cheekbone. Softly, he smiled.  
  
"I know, Love. And I am eternally grateful." His eyes began to scan her body. Neck, shoulders, collarbones, arms, all as he talked and held her gently. "But, the point being, that no one was trying to make you a Vampire. Didn't hurt much because didn't want it to."  
  
Buffy nodded, letting him inspect her slowly, his eyes brushing against her flesh as real as if they were fingers. It made her skin burn with a good, beautiful, fire. "Understand."  
  
"Last reason Vampire's bite is to claim," Spike continued, turning her towards the wall and continuing the visual inspection of her back. "To make another ours. Like making a vow that you claim another as your own, and they claim you in return. Not always romantic, but, being a sappy sod since I met you, was in our case."  
  
Buffy smiled a true, radiant smile at him. "I kinda like you sappy sometimes."  
  
He rolled his eyes, continuing his lecture. "Less you've been holding back on me, you hadn't been claimed before. Though I'm pretty sure I'd've known if you were. Sort of leaves a mark. Not a physical one, but."  
  
"But a heart one," Buffy said quietly. He nodded. She shook her head. "No. No claiming. Not for me. Not till you."  
  
Spike smiled, stroking her cheek. "Never again either. If that's all right with you."  
  
"I think my dance card is happily full," Buffy replied, her smile lighting the room. She was quiet a minute. "So how long does claiming last? I mean, in normal, not One joined kind of Vampire, people, relationships."  
  
He had to chuckle. In all these years, around all these mostly well educated, well spoken people, Buffy had managed to retain her own little language skills. Smart as a whip, but talked in circles. "Usually for eternity, but doesn't always work. Bit like marriage in that respect."  
  
Buffy chuckled. "Did for us."  
  
"We aren't your normal Mr. and Mrs. Smith of 1630 Revello, with two point five tots and one of those tasteless minivans," Spike snarked. "Unless you're not telling me something and there's a point five baking and a block of jello on wheels on order."  
  
Buffy giggled. "Okay, we're the demon fighting Mrs. and Mr. Windsor of 1630 Revello with a nice round two kids and a regular car. Oh, and some mystical connection that always keeps us together. And no point five that I know of."  
  
"Sounds about right," Spike answered, turning her back towards him. "And happy to report, there's not a mark on you, Pet."  
  
She smiled brightly. "So, glad you are thorough." She was silent a moment, her mind turning dizzying circles. Then the smile faded and he felt as if the lights in the room had been dimmed.  
  
"What is it, Pet?" Spike asked as she stood before him. She was naked and always glorious, but she suddenly became very small and alone.  
  
"Why then?" Buffy asked, her eyes filling and her body beginning to tremble. "If nothing bit me, tried to turn me, then why? You know that what happened outside was.."  
  
Spike swallowed, his eyes falling from hers. "Burning," he whispered. "Know it well, Pet."  
  
"If I'm not." Buffy said, the first of those big, wet tears drizzling down her face in a silver laced trail. "Then what?"  
  
Spike gathered her against him, backing her towards the now brimming tub. He turned off the water with one hand and scooped her up with the other. "Not sure, Love," he answered. "But it's not real. Not really, at least. So, we'll mend it. Make it right."  
  
Buffy swallowed as he gently lowered her into the water. It was hot, but like sinking into calm. He settled her against the bottom and brought his hands to her face. "What if we can't?" Buffy whispered, terrified. Scared that if this was real, if she was somehow turned into the one thing they fought against, he would no longer love her. Her kids wouldn't love her. Her friends.  
  
Spike felt that thought rip through him like a dagger. She thought it changed anything about how he felt. Didn't want to see her as fanged and bumpy just because he knew *she'd* hate it. Didn't matter to him if she was suddenly a Fyarl demon. She was still his Buffy. His mate. His life. "Buffy," he sighed, kneeling down next to the tub and brushing damp strands of hair from her shoulders. "Don't think that what is happening is permanent. Think it's something the Wonder Twins of Tweed downstairs can suss out and fix eventually." Buffy moved to speak but Spike shh'd her with a finger over her lips. "But even if it were, Pet, even if you were a Vampire. Wouldn't matter. I'd love you all the same. Kid's still have their mum. I'd still have you. Be an adjustment, more for you than me, but wouldn't change anything. Not to mention, you've your own do-it yourself manual of successful, not particularly evil , Vampire sleeping mere inches away from you. I don't want this to be real because *you* would hate it. It honestly doesn't matter to me."  
  
Buffy looked at him for a minute, knowing he was telling her the truth, but still uncertain. "You. you'd love me the same if. if."  
  
Spike sighed, leaning against the side of the tub and letting his face brush close to hers. "Buffy, when things started. when Emma. I was a Vampire. Well and truly. No daylight. No pulse. Right?"  
  
Buffy nodded, feeling his breath blow against her cheek.  
  
"When you came for me, at that git's red mansion, I was a Vampire. Not some sort of halfway creature. Just a Vampire. Plain and simple. Right?"  
  
"Yes," Buffy breathed, barely able to speak.  
  
"Buffy," he whispered, moving back enough to see her eyes. "Did you love me then? Really?"  
  
She stared at him for a long moment. Not that she had to think about the answer, but because he'd even asked. "Yes," she replied softly.  
  
"And I was a Vampire?" Spike asked. "Completely?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then what makes you think for a bloody second that it would change anything for me?" Spike asked, his hands now on her cheeks forcing her to look at him. "If you could love me then, why is it so hard to believe that I would love you now, were it even remotely true?"  
  
Big, wet drops spilled from Buffy's eyes as she stared at him. She loved him. Every part of her loved him and she knew he felt the same. It had been a silly fear. Then again, most fear was. But still. It had been there. It wasn't anymore.  
  
"I know you would," Buffy said quietly, her eyes still trapped in his. "But I'm . I'm scared."  
  
Spike softened, leaning in closer again. "I know, Love. But we *will* make it right. And I'll be there when it's over. Never leaving."  
  
Buffy smiled, tears running down her face. "Then please don't go now."  
  
He backed up on his knees, quirking a brow. She looked so afraid and so alone, but a small smile was trying to play on her lips. "Not going anywhere, Pet."  
  
She shook her head, letting one wet hand rise from the bubbles. "I think that you might have missed a few spots on your search."  
  
A sly grin broke out on his face. "Want me to smell like a damned Vanilla plant, do you?"  
  
"You're already covered in it from me," Buffy reminded, blowing bubbles against the front of his shirt.  
  
He sighed dramatically, peeling the t-shirt off and tossing it behind him. "If it'll make you feel better for me to continue the search."  
  
"It's a hard job," Buffy began, "but someone has to do it."  
  
To be contd. 


	15. Give and Take

Good evening, All  
  
I am actually managing to get a second chapter out this week, thanks to some fast moving betas and a muse that decided to poke her head out from my wallow-fest and help me out. I also am fairly certain that Wednesday's chapter will be out on time.  
  
For those of you following my RL soap saga, thank you again for all of your help. You really are wonderful people. I am proud to announce that my father and his girlfriend surprised me with a new puppy on Friday. He will never be Max, but I will love him all the same. His name is Rupert and he's another miniature dachshund. Only nine weeks old. It's been a while since I've been a puppy mum, but hopefully, it will be a welcome change from grief.  
  
Please enjoy the story and let me know how you feel. Also, *please* go visit the awesome site that Rachel surprised me with. I was utterly blown out of the water by how well done it is, and how generous a gesture. Please reward her hard work. The link is:  
  
http://www.cloudy-visions.org/nimue/always.htm  
  
Thank you again for reading and please please review!  
  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
  
  
  
Title: Give and Take (Chapter Fifteen of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com. Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at http://www.cloudy-visions.org/nimue/always.htm  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Oz, Tara and Willow finish their conversation about events to come. Draconius sets Luke straight about their plan. Spike has to explain to the children what is wrong with their mother, and face some frightening truths when talking to Giles.  
  
Give and Take  
  
  
  
  
  
Oz looked at the girls kindly, but with newfound awe and reverence. It wasn't often that an opportunity like this presented itself to a werewolf. "So, um.what do we do? I mean, I know, but how? When? Logistics. you know."  
  
Tara smiled shyly. "I was hoping you would know what to do. "  
  
The werewolf returned it warmly. "Well, yeah. But well, you know. I mean, the three. oh, hell. Is it fair to say that I am really stoked?"  
  
Willow giggled nodding head. "Fair enough."  
  
"Um," Oz began, his eyes darting around the room like small disco balls. He wasn't even sure where to begin. It was like Christmas all over, yet he had to restrain his enthusiasm and remember that, despite the offer on the table, this wasn't about his pleasure. This was about them. He was just getting a gift with purchase. "You sure you want to do this?"  
  
"Sure," Tara answered, smiling shyly. "We...we've discussed it a lot, Oz, and it's really the only way that either of us will feel comfortable."  
  
Oz shifted, suddenly feeling pleasantly uncomfortable with the questions brewing in his mind. "So, uh, do you.I mean, you want me to.both of you, right? I mean.or is one kind of spectating, because that would be.man.talk about performance under pressure." His cheeks were red, his small mouth quirked in an expression straddling the line between utter happiness and complete humiliation.  
  
"Both," Willow answered. "I mean, both of us, with the involvement. If we're going to do this, and probably just once, then we want to give it our best shot."  
  
"Think it's *my* best shot you're asking for," Oz answered, spinning the coffee mug between his hands. "I mean, literally speaking."  
  
Tara's eyes darted from Oz to the table and back at least a million times, as if looking at him suddenly made it real. "We want to be sure..we have a better chance of at least one of us.if both of us."  
  
"So, what you're saying is I need to rest up and break out the Yohimbe," Oz joked, leaning back in the seat and drumming some foreign beat on the table.  
  
"If that's what it takes," Willow answered. "I mean.if you want. You don't have to do this..."  
  
"Want to," Oz interrupted, almost too quickly. "Was that pathetically enthusiastic?"  
  
Both women smiled at him. "Not so much with the pathetic, but good with the enthusiasm," Willow replied, her eyes dancing. "So, you're in?"  
  
"I am your baby making wolf man," Oz answered, sticking his hand across the table. Willow shook, Tara laying her hand on top of them both. They were quiet for a moment, holding their hands together in the center of the table. "So, when do you want to.?"  
  
Willow looked at Tara, an unspoken conversation passing between them. They looked back at Oz. "There are some things going on with Buffy and Spike.I think we should help them out first. You know, since Spike kinda helped us with the whole.arranging this."  
  
Oz nodded. "Anything I can do?"  
  
"Not sure," Willow answered. "Help if you speak ancient African dialects."  
  
"Only on Tuesdays," Oz joked, a warm smile breaking across his face. "But I'm willing to be the coffee brigade."  
  
"Much coffee is needed," Tara contributed, her face nearly as radiant as her heart. "The research gets a little."  
  
"Slow," Oz completed. "Scooby ex meritus."  
  
Tara smiled. "Right. So, yeah, um, why don't you come with us to Buffy's and you can brew while we crack books."  
  
"Can do," the werewolf completed, dropping a few bills on the table and scooting out of the booth. He paused, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. "Let me just make sure I got this straight. You two want to have a baby, so you want me to sleep with both of you.together.and try to make sure that one of you ends up with a were-witch cross?"  
  
"Pretty much," Willow answered, taking his now outstretched hand and climbing out of the booth, pulling Tara out behind her. "That okay?"  
  
"Oh, that's.that's.there are no words," Oz answered, standing between the two women. "Shall we?"  
  
"We shall," Willow said, wrapping an arm around his waist. Tara followed suit, her hand wrapping around Willow's behind Oz's back. "Off to save the day."  
  
  
  
"So, what's the next step?" Luke chirped, buttoning the collar of his crisp red satin shirt and grabbing a suit jacket from his wardrobe.  
  
Draconius sat in an overstuffed chair, puffing on his pipe. "It's up to them, really. How they react. Hard to know what it was that made each of them so. them."  
  
"Not sure I'm following," Luke replied, plopping down into a chair opposite the old one. "I mean, what does it matter who they are."  
  
A smile broke on Draconius's face. "Ah, see now this is why you need me," he sighed, leaning back into the velvet. "The One is merely the joining of two separate entities. The Vampire and the Slayer."  
  
"That much, I got," Luke answered, balancing his right foot on his left knee and adjusting himself. Satin pants were a little slick against the skin.  
  
"The powers inherent to each, however equal in this particular situation, come with their own drawbacks. I doubt this will have much physical effect on the Vampire of Heart, as he possessed most of the Slayer's inherent abilities before the joining, lacking maybe the prophetic dreams and the fully blown morality that comes with the sharing of soul," Draconius continued.  
  
"Aaaallllrrriiiiggghhhttt," Luke drew out, crinkling his brow.  
  
Draconius sighed long and deep, muttering the idiocy of his unlikely partner to the air. "However," he began anew, "The Vampire has some characteristics that the Slayer is utterly unfamiliar with and has no idea how to control. Not to mention, they are completely abhorrent to her."  
  
"So, why take out the Slayer as opposed to the Vampire. Is she more of a threat?" Luke asked, a Cosmopolitan appearing on the table next to him as if my some hellish magic. Okay, it was by some hellish magic.  
  
"They are of equal threat," Draconius corrected, taking another long pull from his pipe. "However, the Vampire's utter devotion to his Slayer will kill two birds with one stone."  
  
Luke crinkled his brow again, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, I'm back to not with the following."  
  
"You really *are* a moron," the old one sighed, pushing himself out of the chair and beginning to pace back and forth in front of it. "The Vampire will be so concerned and so confused by what is happening to his precious mate, he will become less alert to anything but her plight. All consumed b y saving his golden goddess that he will not notice that we have taken their little hell spawn right from underneath of them."  
  
"I don't know," Luke whined. "I mean, by all accounts, both parents are pretty ferocious when it comes to those little rug rats."  
  
"Maybe so," Draconius nodded. "However, my guess is that the Vampire removes them from their home before their mum becomes a danger to them."  
  
"So where do we find them?" Luke asked, shaking his head slightly. All this evil scheming was making his head hurt.  
  
"That is something we will have to figure out as we go."  
  
  
  
Spike was spooned behind her, listening to the soft sigh of her breath as she slept. It was an uneasy rest, but exhaustion had bettered her concern. She was curled in a ball, wearing a tank top and flannel pajamas, her back pressed tight against his chest. Spike stroked her bare arm, lulling her, almost trying to keep her under the tide of sleep. If he could keep her calm, he'd be calm. If he were calm, he'd be rational. If he were rational, he could find the answer.  
  
But his whole world fell apart when she cried.  
  
Buffy had cried softly most of the way to sleep. She'd been all right in the bath. He had time tested ways of distracting her. But once she the lull of the afterglow wore off, the tears started anew. Soft, quiet ones. The most heart breaking of all because there was no anger behind them to fight. Just fear. And fear was the one weakness they both had.  
  
Slowly, he loosed himself from her lock against him, scooting backwards in almost infinitesimal movements. Buffy stirred and Spike stopped, but she sighed and nestled back into the pillow. It took everything he had to leave her, but there were two Watchers downstairs that needed to suss out the answer. And two tots downstairs that were probably frightened out of their wee gourds.  
  
Spike padded out the door on silent bare feet, and headed downstairs to face that which he feared.  
  
"It wasn't a migraine, was it?" Giles asked, removing his glasses and massaging his brow. Spike had padded into the kitchen silently, setting the kettle back on the stove. Tea. Would soothe them both.  
  
"No," the Vampire finally added, his voice quiet and distant.  
  
"As much I thought," Giles continued, leafing aimlessly through a dusty tome. "Is she all right?"  
  
"For now," Spike whispered, walking to the back door and looking out the window. The kids were sitting on the swings, being pushed gently by Cyrus. They weren't talking or laughing, but looked otherwise normal.  
  
"Spike?" The Watcher's voice was hesitant, but he pushed on. "Did she...Was she burning?"  
  
Spike turned from the window to face the man who had become Buffy's father. Both of their faces were tired, worn. "In a manner of speaking."  
  
"Would you mind.could you explain?" Giles asked, closing the book with a soft tap.  
  
"She didn't actually burn," Spike whispered, his voice so far away that Giles wondered if he was really there at all. Maybe he was still wrapped around her upstairs and this was just a shell. A vision. But the Vampire moved across the floor and rattled tea cups as he rummaged through the cabinets.  
  
"What did happen?" Giles asked, pushing his stool back from the counter and turning to watch Spike. The Vampire's movements were slow, hesitant. Like he was making sure he didn't break under the pressure.  
  
"She felt it," Spike continued in the same horribly distant voice. "I felt it too. Burning. Like the sun, the world, rejects you. Skin gets hot, and then it feels like acid. She felt it."  
  
"Oh God," Giles commented, covering his eyes for a moment. "Is she. is she burned?"  
  
"No," Spike replied concisely. "Checked her over myself. Not a mark on her pretty little body. Not a singe, not a red spot, not a bite."  
  
"So, she hasn't been turned. At least, not traditionally speaking," Giles sighed, almost to himself.  
  
"No," Spike answered. "Heart's fluttering like a scared animal. Breathing normally. Skin's warm. Not a Vampire."  
  
"You've all those things, Spike. And you're still a Vampire," Giles commented, finally raising his eyes to Spike once again.  
  
Spike poured hot water into two cups. "True."  
  
It felt as if a light bulb went off over the Watcher's head. "Spike, do you think. I mean, it seems."  
  
"That she is taking on some of my less endearing characteristics? Thought of that, Mate. But I don't burn in sunshine either. anymore."  
  
"Exactly," Giles replied. "But your demon does. Your demon does all of those things. Maybe she is slowly being infected by the demon."  
  
A wave of guilt crashed over Spike like a tsunami. "You mean that by joining with me, I am leading her to be what she hates?"  
  
A sad expression passed over the Watcher's face. "No, Spike. I don't think that at all. Nor do I think she really hates Vampires as a rule. What I am saying is that the One keeps a channel open between you at all times. Normally, that channel doesn't alter physicalities. In this case, something has forced physical attributes, specific ones, to travel through the connection, thereby infecting one with the traits of the other."  
  
"Not like I've any urge to be all Chosen," Spike snarked, heaping sugar into his tea and handing Giles a cup.  
  
"I think that the Slayer traits are probably something you possessed to begin with in some fashion. But I do notice you've been rather remiss in eating today," The Watcher continued.  
  
Spike raised an eyebrow. Donut when the red head stopped by. Shared a granola bar with Emma. Couple of cups of coffee. "I've eaten."  
  
"Have you fed?" Giles asked.  
  
Blood. Hadn't gone near it today. That was odd. Not necessarily good either. He could eat human food, but he was still a Vampire. Needed blood to survive. "No."  
  
"So, certain things are changing," Giles sighed, lacing his hands behind his head.  
  
"How?" Spike asked. "And how do we change them back? Is this normal? I mean, is this supposed to happen? If so, this is not a bloody good deal for her."  
  
"I honestly don't think this is meant to happen," Giles replied with confidence. "I think that the One is meant to act as it has for the past five years. Something has happened to throw off the balance."  
  
"Spell?" Spike asked, taking a sip of his tea.  
  
Giles nodded. "Spell, enchantment, talisman. Mystical energy with something being used as the focus."  
  
"Would ask who would do that, but it's not like Buffy and me haven't made an army of enemies."  
  
"This is Draconius," the Watcher said, leaning forward again, his forearms on the table, his fingers clasped together tightly. "Has to be."  
  
Spike's brow furrowed. "Thought we sent him to hell, Mate."  
  
"He has sent someone back."  
  
The door flew open and two small people barged inside followed by a concerned, yet gentle Watcher. Cyrus nodded at Spike and walked silently over to the stove to make some tea.  
  
"Daddy!" Emma screamed, running at her father with Will on her heels and Pony bringing up the rear with his thundering paws.  
  
"Hello, Mite," Spike answered, his entire demeanor changing as the youngsters came in. Giles knew it was an act, but it was a good one. And a necessary evil.  
  
"Daddy," Will cheered, grabbing onto his calf with his one good arm.  
  
"Will," he answered, ruffling his hair. "Have a nice play?"  
  
"Yes, daddy," Emma answered, crawling into his lap. Spike leaned down and gently pulled William up with her. They both stared at him with huge, brilliant blue eyes, full of questions.  
  
Spike took a breath. How to handle this one? No one makes a manual for parenting of the children of joined super human, part demonic beings. Just wasn't a NY Times best seller. "What's wrong, Mite?"  
  
"Is mum all right?" Emma asked, biting her lip.  
  
Will trembled a little, burying his face in Spike's arm. "She was screamin'," the boy mumbled.  
  
"She was," Spike answered, nodding, buying time. "But she's right as rain. Just feeling a little poorly is all."  
  
"Like Will?" Emma asked, brushing her gentle fingers against the little boy's cast.  
  
"Only nothing's broken," Spike answered, kissing Emma's forehead. "Mum's not broken. Just. remember when you had the flu a few weeks ago."  
  
Emma nodded, watching her father's eyes. "Yes."  
  
"A bit like that. All hot and fevery and sickly and scared," Spike continued, his nose crinkled for effect. Emma smiled at the gesture.  
  
"Maybe we should make her soup," Emma suggested. "I liked it when mummy made me soup."  
  
"Soup it is," Spike agreed, smiling down at her. He stroked her back almost aimlessly as Will curled under his other arm. "Let's let her rest a bit longer, then we'll take her something to eat."  
  
Will yawned. "I want to see her now."  
  
Spike shot a helpless glance at Giles. Neither of them knew how much might change and if Buffy would recognize it in time. He knew if he took William to Buffy now, he'd want to curl up with her and stay. Which, in general, was fine by them all. But as things stood, none of them knew what would happen next.  
  
"Think it's best if we leave her be, Will," Spike answered, scooting the boy closer. "You want a nap, don't you?"  
  
William nodded, yawning. Emma looked at her father for a minute, and then the little boy. "Daddy, he can lay down with me. Can we watch cartoons for a while?"  
  
She was good. Little give. Little take. Smart little bird. "Yes," Spike answered. "Stretch out in the living room, but keep the sound low, all right? "  
  
"Can we have cookies?" Emma asked, knowing full well she was pushing it further. Spike shook his head. He was conquered.  
  
"Yes," he sighed, planting a kiss on her nose and settling Emma to the floor. "Now, go lay down before I change my mind and I'll bring you a snack."  
  
Emma grinned. She'd learned from the master. Her mum knew how to get what she wanted. Now Emma was almost in her league. "Thanks, daddy."  
  
"Go, you sneaky little tot," Spike joked, settling Will down next to her. "And I'll take you to your mum later, all right?"  
  
Emma nodded. "She is okay, right?"  
  
It took Spike a second to answer. Not really, he thought, but even as mature as Emma had become, she was still five. She didn't need to know that her mum wasn't just sick with the flu. "She'll be fine in no time, Mite. Now go lay down."  
  
The little girl smiled, taking her brother's hand, and headed off to the living room.  
  
To be contd. 


	16. Chicken Soup for the Immortal Soul

Good evening, All,  
  
I made it! Close call on this one as RL and an exhausted muse pushed the deadline envelope. Thanks to my lovely betas for the quick turn around. Sorry, gals, you'll likely have to do it again.  
  
The next chapter is slated for this weekend. My hope is that I will make it. Alas, I do work all weekend and have company in town (not to mention the exhausted muse), so I won't make promises. Just know that I will do my best to have ficcy- goodness to you this weekend.  
  
Please let me know how you like the chapter. I am so grateful for all the feedback and all of the support.  
  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
  
  
  
  
  
Title: Chicken Soup for The Immortal Soul (Chapter Sixteen of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at http://www.cloudy-visions.org/nimue/always.htm  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: The Scoobies join forces to try and figure out what is happening to Buffy. Takina comes to check on Buffy and her son. Tara and Willow attempt to find the source of the enchantment. Spike and Buffy are faced with harrowing menu choices.  
  
Chicken Soup for the Immortal Soul  
  
  
  
"So, how's the research going?" A refreshed and relieved Willow asked as she hung her jacket on the coat rack and reached for Tara's.  
  
"Nowhere fast, I'm afraid," Giles answered, rubbing his forehead absently. He looked stressed. Concerned. Then again, he was a Watcher and that seemed to be a permanent expression. Willow thought about it a moment. When Giles had succumbed to his calling, he was signing on to be the mentor of a fifteen year old girl, a Slayer, not of two adult beings supernaturally joined and now more powerful than any Slayer, or any Vampire could be alone. Still, he stayed. Still, he seemed to enjoy his work. Usually.  
  
"Still with the dreamscape?" Willow asked, grabbing a mug and helping herself to the seemingly eternal supply of coffee.  
  
"Moved on from that, I'm afraid," Giles answered. Spike stood in the corner, arms folded, deep in thought. He wasn't going to tell the story again. Giles could understand that. Quickly, he caught the rest of them up to speed on the day's occurrences, using as mild words as he could. No reason to make Spike any more agitated that he had already become.  
  
"D'you call Takina?" Spike asked quietly, turning to Cyrus. He had asked his daughter's Watcher to ring the doctor. Might as well rule out anything physical that could be wrong with the other half of his life.  
  
"I did," Cyrus answered, peeking into the living room. The two kids were rolled in a ball together like kittens, cartoons playing quietly as background noise. "She said she'd be out to see Will today anyway. No worries to check Buffy while she's here."  
  
"Is Buffy sick?" Oz asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Tara shot him a gentle, but unmistakable, warning glance.  
  
"Sorry, man. Didn't mean to be nosey," Oz corrected.  
  
"Not sick, I don't think," Spike replied, his voice short and still so distant.  
  
"Supernatural stuff," Oz mused. "I get it. Anything I can do, say the word."  
  
"Not at the moment," Spike concluded, nodding politely. That was all he had to say on the subject.  
  
"Spike?" Giles asked, turning his head to the Vampire. "About what we spoke of this morning. Were you serious?"  
  
Spike thought for a moment. So much had happened in the last twenty four hours, he wasn't quite sure what the Watcher was referring to. But the look on Giles face, the fear and apprehension, said it all. The kids. "Yes," Spike answered. "But not at this point."  
  
"Anya's coming by in a bit with Randy. We can keep an eye on the tots if you want to take Buffy out to patrol."  
  
The thought hadn't occurred to Spike. She was ill and frightened. Why would he want to take her out into more danger? But he saw Rupert's point. If Buffy was up to it, taking her into their most comfortable environment, well second most comfortable to the bedroom, he may be able to gauge exactly how far this situation had gone. "That'd be helpful."  
  
"Right," Giles nodded, watching Spike closely. "And I'll continue the research."  
  
"We may want to get the Witches more involved at this point," Cyrus contributed as a knock sounded at the door.  
  
Oz pushed himself from the wall, shrugging. "You know. Not a Witch. But good with doors." He disappeared towards the front door as the rest milled aimlessly about the kitchen.  
  
"What.what can we do?" Tara asked, leaning against the counter and turning to face the Watchers.  
  
Giles sighed. "What is happening to Buffy does not seem to be a normal consequence of the One. There is some sort of catalyst that is effecting the change. I would hazard to say that it is some sort of spell or enchantment."  
  
Willow furrowed her brow. "Any idea who? I mean, it's easier to stump the mojo if you know who the source is."  
  
"Draconius," Giles answered flatly. "I'm almost certain."  
  
Willow's eyes went wide. "That's some big mojo."  
  
"Do you really think we can help?" Tara asked, squeezing her lover's hand. "I mean Draconius."  
  
"Well, we are not certain, at this point, that it is indeed Draconius," Cyrus interjected. Giles shot him an evil glance. In Rupert's mind, there was no one else it could be. Cyrus tended to agree, but the Witches were right, it was far easier to subvert a spell if one knew the source. "Is there any way to find out for sure? I mean, that'd help. So would being sure it was a spell to start with. Ooh, and what kind," Willow gushed.  
  
"I'm not sure how to ascertain that at this point, Willow," Giles answered sullenly.  
  
Tara stood, thoughtful for a moment. "Wait a minute. I mean, Anya still has active connections in the demon world. Right? So maybe she can ask around."  
  
The idea made both Giles and Spike shudder. Not only because she was part of the group and they didn't want her in danger, but she was also their safety net when it came to protecting the children. "I'm not sure that is the wisest of ideas. She is needed here," Giles said, his eyes adding so much more. He didn't want to put her in danger.  
  
"I don't think she'd even have to leave," Willow mused. "I mean, last time, when I went to find Spike, it was like I was a spectator. Maybe Anya can just locate Draconius and see if he's up to something without ever going near him.  
  
"Can you do that?" Spike asked. "I mean, without any of you being in danger?"  
  
"We can work on it," Tara answered, her smile soft and comforting. "It might help us figure out what we can do to neutralize the spell."  
  
"Do it," Giles commented, his fear being overcome by his sense of duty. "If Anya agrees, of course."  
  
Spike nodded his agreement.  
  
"We can work in the basement. See if we can figure out a spell to just send her out there mentally without putting her in danger. Okay?" Willow asked, collecting her jacket and heading towards the basement door. "You still have some of my things down there?'  
  
"In a box above the washer," Spike answered, nodding at the door. "Wanted it out of reach of the tots. Not sure what Emma can do yet."  
  
"Sure," Tara said, smiling again. "We'll figure it out, Spike. We always do."  
  
As the girls disappeared into the basement, Oz returned into the kitchen. "It was Xander's wife. I let her in. Hope that's okay."  
  
"Fine," Spike answered, heading towards the dining room and the stairs.  
  
"Whoa," Oz cautioned, putting out a hand to stop Spike. Spike eyed him warily. They weren't that closely acquainted that Spike still didn't think of knocking the wolf into a wall for preventing him from getting at Buffy. Oz moved his hand at the look. "Takina asked me to tell you that she wanted to look her over alone first. Then you could come up. She said you'd be anxious."  
  
Spike thought a moment, blood still boiling, and then took a step back. Bird knew him too well. "Right then," Spike muttered, backing further into the kitchen. "What do I do until then?"  
  
It was an honest question, but none of them knew. All they could do was research and try and keep the Scoobies from losing perspective without their leader.  
  
  
  
The bedroom door opened with a creak. The sun was low in the sky and the room was filled with a hazy orange glow. It was like a foreign dreamscape to Spike. Not their room at all. Not quite right. But it was still her.  
  
He had a bad feeling about this.  
  
Buffy was pushed back against the pillows, blanket pulled up to her chin and knees drawn to her chest. Takina sat next to her, her soft hand patting Buffy's knee. Both of them jumped a bit as the door opened. Needed some oil. It ruined Spike's stealth entrances.  
  
"How is she?" Spike asked, swallowing. He looked at Buffy and felt a wave of fear crash over him. It was almost tactile, cold and alone, pulsing under his skin.  
  
Takina stood, pushing herself from the bed. "Physically, she's fine," the doctor answered in her most professional, metered, tone. "Maybe a little anemic. Other than that, she's as strong as ever. Heartbeat and lung function seem normal. No fever. She's a little cold."  
  
The thought made Spike shudder. He remembered that feeling the most when he dug his way out of the ground. Cold. Afraid. He'd have never admitted it. He never admitted being frightened until Buffy. His strength and his lack of noticeable fear is what had kept him alive that long. "But nothing else."  
  
"She says I'm fine." Buffy's voice was tinny. Distant, even to herself. "I mean, I feel okay."  
  
"But you're not," Spike answered. Actually, it bordered on being a question, but the cold, alone feeling creeping under his skin made it a fact.  
  
She shook her head, eyes full of unshed tears. "No."  
  
"Do you think that her symptoms might be mystical?" Takina asked, leaning down so that her hand rested on Buffy's shoulder. Spike sat on the opposite side of the bed, fumbling for Buffy's hand. She was doing the same. They met in the middle.  
  
Spike nodded. "Red and Tara are working on it now. Seems it may be a spell of some sort."  
  
Buffy looked interested for the first time that day. Fear had been controlling her since the episode on the porch. For the first time, Spike felt anger creep in. It was a bloody good feeling.  
  
"So someone is doing this to me?" Buffy asked, her voice laced with contempt.  
  
Spike stared at her a second and smiled. "Can't stand anyone getting the better of us, can you, Pet?"  
  
Buffy returned the smile, a little weakly, but a valiant effort. "Not on your life. Or unlife. Or our life. Or whatever." Spike chuckled. Had to buy the girl a few grammar books. "The Watcher's think it might be that poof Draconius."  
  
"What?" Buffy yelped. "I thought we killed his sorry old butt."  
  
"Merely banished him from this dimension, it seems," Spike answered.  
  
"So, Draconius is casting a cross dimensional spell?" Takina asked, an eyebrow rising. Doctor was a smart woman, Spike thought.  
  
"Looks that way," the Vampire answered. "Not sure. The Witches two are trying to suss out a way to be sure."  
  
"Amazing he has that much power. It takes a lot of sheer magical force to cast cross dimensionally without a vector," Takina mused, leaning her hip against the end table.  
  
"Watchers seem to think he might have some help in this dimension," Spike answered. "Likely unwilling."  
  
"So the trick is to catch the pawn without harming it and deactivate the spell," the Doctor responded, her voice gaining confidence as if a light bulb had gone off over her head.  
  
Buffy watched the exchange like a tennis match. She was bright, but the big wordiness made it harder to get to the point. "In English?"  
  
"That was English, Love," Spike snarked. "Rather you Scooby-speak?"  
  
Buffy bashed Spike with a pillow and he chuckled. He knew how bright she was, how good a leader and how accurate a tactician. But it was still fun to tease. "Just tell me."  
  
"Tweeds downstairs think that Draconius, who is likely in some nearby hell dimension, is casting a spell on you. Well, more accurately on us. Takina pointed out that it takes a sodding tidal wave of magic to cross from one dimension to another without someone delivering the force. Watchers think that there may well be another party involved in this dimension, likely unwilling 'coz Draconius is an egotistical git and would want to pull the strings. Thing is, the poor bugger that gets to walk into our lion's den probably doesn't even know what they're doing. Don't want to kill it unless we have to," Spike explained, his fingers working gently against her palm.  
  
"If something brought Draconius's little Vampire surprise to me, why *wouldn't* I kill it?" Buffy asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.  
  
"Because, Buffy, it has no free will. It's being manipulated by Draconius. Robbed of its defenses. It's like killing someone completely under a spell," Takina continued. "Whoever it is doesn't know they're hurting you."  
  
"Still vote for the killing," Buffy muttered, looking at her knees.  
  
"Seem to remember, Pet, when you and I both were under a spell or two. Got a bit sappy the once. Almost did the second time. Do you blame yourself for that?"  
  
Buffy grinned, the embarrassing thought of their spell induced engagement and their tryst as the superhero dream team racing into her mind. May have ended up as truth, but at the time, she definitely didn't want to be blamed for what had happened. "Seeing your point."  
  
"Thought you might, Love," Spike answered, kissing her nose.  
  
"Maybe I can help track down the vector. Help Tara and Willow a bit," Takina commented, starting towards the door.  
  
Spike nodded. "Sure they could use a hand."  
  
"I'll check on William while I'm here. Has he been acting normally?" The Doctor asked.  
  
Spike grinned. "If you mean sweet on your girl, then yes, he's right as rain."  
  
"I've been hiding that from Xander," Takina chuckled. "I think it might give him a coronary."  
  
"Maybe they'll grow out of it?" Buffy asked, shrugging. Somewhere, she knew they wouldn't.  
  
"Doubt that, Love. Will's anything like his dad, he finds his girl and sticks to her," Spike contributed, sliding his shoulder behind Buffy and pulling her to rest against his chest.  
  
"Like crazy glue," Buffy answered softly, her lips finding Spike's. They barely heard the door click closed.  
  
"Mummy?" A small voice from outside the door called. Buffy's eyes fluttered open. She dozed back off, cradled in the warm safety of Spike's arms. He had fallen asleep as well, his head buried in her hair. She could swear she felt a drool mark on the crown of her head.  
  
"Emma?" Buffy answered. "You can come in sweetie."  
  
The door opened gently and Tara ushered the two kids through the door. Emma was walking very slowly, carrying a tray with soup and crackers for Buffy, and a mug of blood for Spike. Tara made sure Emma made it to the table before waving slightly and letting the door click closed.  
  
"What's this?" Buffy asked, helping Emma steady the tray. Spike stirred behind her.  
  
"Daddy said you were sick. When I was sick, you made me soup," Emma announced proudly, climbing up on the bed. The little girl reached down and hoisted her brother up with them.  
  
"Awfully sweet of you, Mite," Spike said, motioning the little girl towards him. She scampered into his lap, taking up the part of his chest that Buffy wasn't leaning against. Will curled up between their legs, his head resting on his mother's thigh.  
  
"Looks like they brought you some bloody-goodness as well," Buffy commented, inspecting the tray. Spike's stomach did a flip flop at the thought. Blood was completely unappealing. The soup smelled pretty good.  
  
Buffy caught the look on his face and the sensation creeping from under his skin to hers. Her eyes shot over to him in surprise. "Wait a minute," she gushed. "This isn't just affecting me, is it?"  
  
Spike looked at her a long moment, and shook her head. "No, Love. Not much of a Vampire at the moment."  
  
"And can I just say that it's grossing me out that the blood smells good?" Buffy commented, crinkling her nose. "But so does the soup."  
  
"Stick to the soup," Spike contributed. "You'll be happier when this is over."  
  
Buffy thought, her eyes heavy with fatigue. "Spike, you *need* blood to stay strong. Live."  
  
"That I do, Pet," Spike answered, nodding slightly.  
  
She looked at the tray a moment longer, then at the kids. "Think we can do this for them? I mean, eat what we're supposed to?"  
  
"Not sure. Making me ill to think on it," the Vampire answered, eyeing the warmed mug.  
  
"I need you to be strong, Spike," Buffy pleaded, looking over at him with wide, doe, eyes. "I know neither of us.."  
  
Spike nodded, holding out his hand. "Anything for the three of you, Pet. Just make sure you eat something. We've got to patrol tonight."  
  
"Patrol?" Buffy asked, breaking crackers into the soup.  
  
"Yes, Pet," he answered, stroking Emma's hair. He didn't want to say more in front of them.  
  
"What's wrong, Mummy? Don't you want your soup?" Emma asked, watching her parents eye the food a little too long before eating.  
  
"It's great, baby," Buffy said, taking a big spoonful. Spike took a sip of the mug and his face contorted in disgust. Buffy nudged him, watching Will look curiously at his father. Spike took another sip and steeled his resolve.  
  
"Thank you," Spike continued, swallowing bile and focusing on the kids. Will beamed up at him. Emma curled into his chest.  
  
Anything for them.  
  
To be contd. 


	17. Hunger

Good evening, All.  
  
Well, it's a little later on Sunday that I had originally expected, but I made it none the less. YAY for that!  
  
I hope to have the next chapter out either Wednesday or Thursday, provided real life stays relatively calm.  
  
Hope all of you are safe and well, and please, let me know how you like the story. The angst has begun!  
  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
  
  
  
  
  
Title: Hunger (Chapter Seventeen of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at http://www.cloudy-visions.org/nimue/always.htm .  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Buffy and Spike patrol. Anya and Giles argue over Anya's role in helping Buffy. The One encounter a group of Vampires and realize that their problems are worlds larger than they thought.  
  
Hunger  
  
The night was chilly. At least for California. The air was crisp and nearly weightless as they walked as they always had. It seemed like an eternity that they had patrolled side by side along the streets and alleys, cemeteries and campuses of this town. In one sense, it had been an eternity. In another, it had been only moments since they had called a truce and became One.  
  
They were silent, as they often were on such walks. The sounds of their footsteps echoed in the chilly night air. Not much was going on. Most of the Vampire and demon population was laying low. Most of the humans were still involved in family get-togethers in the wake of the holidays. Just the sounds of their footsteps and the feel of each other's presence.  
  
"You all right, Pet?" Spike asked, his eyes darting over to her. She was tense, her hands already gripping the stake she usually kept hidden until the final flourish.  
  
"Unhunh," Buffy answered, unconvincingly. This silence wasn't quite as normal and comfortable as most. Spike pondered that for a moment. How many different kinds of quiet were there?  
  
"Forgive me for saying so, Love," he began, listening to the rhythm of her footfalls, "but I think you're telling old Spike a bit of a lie."  
  
Buffy turned her head, smiling weakly. "I'm fine. Really."  
  
"All right," he answered, his hands involuntarily searching his pockets for a smoke. There were none there. Hadn't been for years. Didn't stop the habit of looking. Spike took a deep breath of the cold air. "Something on your mind then?"  
  
"Other than the me turning into a Vampire possibilities, not really," she snarked in response, trying to be at least a bit light-hearted. It didn't work. He could feel the weight of her worry pumping like thick blood in her veins.  
  
"Can see where that'd worry you, Pet. But we'll sort it out. " Spike reached for her free hand, the one not clutching white knuckled at the stake, and took it inside of his. Enveloped it. He was still amazed how her hand just.fit.inside of his.  
  
Buffy relaxed just the smallest bit. "I know," she answered, trying to find that little thread of optimism. She was quiet a moment, searching the night sky for answers. Only finding stars. "Why would someone do this to me? To us?"  
  
"Could be any number of reasons, Pet," Spike replied, pulling her closer until her hip brushed his with every stride. "If it is truly that *git* we sent sprawling to hell, my guess would be to get to Emma."  
  
Buffy crinkled her nose, staring up at his deep blue eyes. "But why? I mean, why try and make us. into each other."  
  
He had to chuckle. Hadn't thought about it quite like that. "Well, "Spike sighed, letting go of her hand and wrapping an arm around her. "Guess is that it's a diversion. Make you all fangy grr, you'll be too upset to keep your guard up. Not to mention, preoccupied with the burning in sunlight and bloodlust."  
  
"And can we *stop* with the graphic depiction?" Buffy whined, shuddering at the thought. "Besides, it still leaves you. Only effect it's had there is your generally feeling of non-tastiness towards blood."  
  
Again, Spike had to chuckle. "There've been other things. But wouldn't need them. You should know by now, Pet, the best way to disarm me is threaten you or the tots. Can't seem to think straight when you're in danger."  
  
She smiled, a big night-lighting smile. "I knew I liked you for some reason. All sweet and sappy and romantic."  
  
"Don't say that too loud, Love. Might ruin my reputation," Spike chided, squeezing her a little tighter. His reputation had been completely obliterated the minute he fell in love with the Slayer and he knew it.  
  
"So, what other things?" Buffy asked, her feet still making tiny tapping noises as her boots crossed the pavement.  
  
"Come again?" Spike asked, brushing hair from her face with the back of his hand.  
  
"When I said the only effect it was having on you was the blood thing, you said that there were other things. What other things?" Buffy asked, turning a corner into their second Sunnydale cemetery of the night. It constantly amazed her how many grave yards there were in such a small town. Made her think they hadn't worked nearly hard enough.  
  
Spike sighed, rounding the corner still brushing against her hip. "Well, other than my lack of taste for blood, and this incredible urge to become a martyr, there's this sodding nasty feeling of goodness and light. How do you live with it, Pet? All that sunshine and roses and save the world for the sake of small dogs and baby seals?"  
  
Buffy laughed, her whole body shaking. "You've got to be kidding me."  
  
"No, Pet," Spike replied, smiling. "Not quite sure how to describe it, but I think I get the idea of where all the pressure comes in."  
  
"What pressure?" Buffy asked, strolling peacefully now. Spike always knew how to take the edge off.  
  
"Pressure to save the sodding world all the time. Couldn't understand why you *always* did the right thing. Tried to at least. Why you cared bout the fate of the lot of them. But you have this.huge.bloody light shoved inside of you telling you what to do and when and how. Don't know how you've made it this long without blowing a circuit," Spike explained, his free hand rubbing his brow.  
  
"It's not bad," Buffy answered. "The light bit. You get used to it."  
  
"Not bloody likely," Spike complained, his fingers working his temples.  
  
Buffy giggled. Then she laughed. She bit her lip to stop the tears from falling down her face. Spike looked at her, head tilted, eyebrow cocked in concern. Maybe this wasn't just making her more like him, but it was also making her a little off her rocker. "What is it then?"  
  
She blushed a deep crimson. "Nothing."  
  
"No, Pet," Spike prodded, catching her infectious grin. "What?"  
  
The blush became impossibly deeper. "I'm such a perv." Her hand covered her face innocently.  
  
"Now that I like to hear," he responded, his eyebrows waggling joyously. "But why right now?"  
  
"Um," she giggled. "That part about huge and shoved inside."  
  
If it was possible for a Vampire to blush, Spike was giving it his best go. He'd loved her all along, but her sense of adventure had come a long way. "Trying to tell me something, Love?" He snarked, spinning her to face him. He backed her against the wall of a mausoleum, lowering his face until he spoke right against her lips.  
  
"Since I'm all missing the light. thought maybe you could come up with something to replace it. You know. since I'm all unfilled," she taunted, her voice low and sultry. His heart skipped a beat. How he ever thought he had loved before was beyond him.  
  
"Well, if you're asking nicely."  
  
A noise made both of their heads spin. Just as his lips brushed her ear, a small group of Vampires emerged from the mausoleum, drunk and fired up for the night. Buffy could feel the blood pumping, not sure if it was from Spike or from the sudden urge to fight. Spike looked at her for a long moment. That horrid bright light burned inside of him. "Looks like this might have to wait, Pet."  
  
Buffy sighed, letting the fight overcome the incredible, unbridled lust. "Can we kill them at least?"  
  
"Vampire's love. That's your job," Spike answered, inhaling her scent in one deep breath, then pushing himself away from her.  
  
"Yippee," Buffy chirped, darting out from under his arm and taking off towards the fight.  
  
  
  
"I don't see why you don't just let me *go* there. I'm telling you *now* he is with Luke," Anya complained, her arms crossed over her chest and her leg cocked out to the side. Giles still sat on the hard stool, facing her. She was pressed against the wall looking annoyed like only Anya could.  
  
"Because Willow and Tara have devised a way to ascertain whether or not Draconius is truly even there without you being in danger. You should be able to hang about long enough to try and sort out their plan without them ever knowing that you've arrived," Giles countered, shifting his sleeping son against his chest. The baby murmured and rested his head against Giles' shoulder.  
  
"I *know* Luke. He's not a smart demon, Rupert. I can just ask. If I ask the right way, he'll spill it in a second." She paused, musing, a small grin breaking on her face. "Besides, he's always had a little crush on me. I can pass freely between hell dimensions and here."  
  
"As much as I'm enthused that the hell god in residence of the consecutive dimension has a soft spot for you, my dear, I don't find it safe. Not to mention, have you even *tried* to pass freely between hell and earth lately?" Giles responded, the anger growing in his voice. He stood, bouncing the child a bit and patting the boy's back. Randy gurgled and fell back to sleep.  
  
Anya looked at him a moment, her brow furrowed in thought. "Well, no. But why wouldn't I be able to?"  
  
"Demon or no," Giles snapped, "You've got a human soul, Anya. It may affect your freedom of movement in ways that you have not grown accustomed to."  
  
"Hunh," Anya sighed, leaning back against the kitchen wall. "Hadn't really thought of that."  
  
Giles looked at her, still angry. She wasn't getting the point. Not the real one. Not the reason he didn't want her to go. "That's the problem, Anya. You've all the good intentions in the world, but you don't always think."  
  
Her face flared an angry red and Giles was suddenly thankful that he was holding their son. Still, he looked quickly down to check for signs of evisceration. They say that mortal wounds don't hurt half as much as a paper cut. His body parts were present and accounted for. When he raised his eyes again, her face had become calm, serene, the angry red fading into the sweet, honeyed glow of her cheeks. "Aw, Rupie."  
  
Giles was startled a moment, his mouth twitching. "Y...yes?"  
  
"You're worried about me!" Anya enthused. "You don't want me to go because you're afraid I won't come back!" She ran towards him full throttle, throwing her arms around his neck and nearly knocking his glasses off in the process. She artfully avoided catching the baby in the death grip.  
  
"And you're just figuring this out now, Anya?" Giles asked, when he thought it might again be safe to speak.  
  
"You should have just said so," she cooed into his ear, letting her lips brush the sensitive skin. Giles shuddered slightly. Anya had always been an amazing woman.  
  
"I suppose I should have," Giles commented, wrapping his free arm around her waist. "But I thought that it went without saying."  
  
"Say it anyway," Anya whispered, pressing herself against him in all the most delicious ways.  
  
"I don't want you in danger. I don't want you to go and take the chance that you won't come back. I don't want you to leave Randy, nor me. I love you, Anya," Giles admitted, burying his face in her hair and kissing the crown of her head.  
  
She sighed, a huge grin breaking out on her face. "You're such a yummy human. Now I know why I like you so much."  
  
Giles shook his head, chuckling. "You like me?"  
  
She pulled her head from his chest staring up at him. "I love you. Thought that went without saying."  
  
"Say it anyway," Giles answered, brushing his lips to hers. "And don't go there, all right?"  
  
Anya sighed. "All right. I'll just take a peek."  
  
  
  
Buffy dove into the middle of the pack of Vampires with reckless abandon. Spike could barely keep track of the blinding flash of blonde hair and the streak of her tan jacket in the moonlight. He dove in behind her, absolutely certain that they shouldn't be approaching them like this, but knowing that if he didn't back her up, she was liable to get herself killed.  
  
There were eight, all told. Many of them older. Two were fledglings. She went after them first. Good tactics, Spike thought. Take out the weak and then move in for the stronger. That way some pesky fledgling doesn't clean your clock as you're standing their panting from the big battle. Spike fought his way through behind her, punching and kicking and pushing until he could see her again.  
  
But what he saw wasn't her.  
  
Buffy had knocked both of the young ones on the ground and was standing, one tiny booted foot on each of them. She had leaned forward, extending her reach, and was pummeling them both, beating the life, or the unlife, out of them with her fists. It took Spike a second to grasp it. To realize the difference. Except possibly to him, she'd never been cruel to her prey. She'd never treated them as prey. She fought as much as she had too to stake the creature and put it out of its misery. Buffy had never been one for the pain.  
  
Until now.  
  
Blood spattered from the mouths of both fledglings as Spike fended off the older Vampires, trying to stay alive enough to bring her back. "Buffy?" He called out, tossing punches that were almost lethal, but only knocking the older Vampires away from him enough to move forward. "Buffy?"  
  
She crouched low, looking almost feral and turned her head at the sound. Buffy's eyes glinted in the moonlight, a strange eerie glow that hadn't been there before. She smiled, her teeth not quite fangs, but whiter, longer than before. Spike shuddered at the sight.  
  
"Buffy, just kill them! They've got a sodding girl with them. Human. No time to waste beating them senseless," Spike stammered, trying to recover from the sight of her spattered in blood and gleaming at him in the dark of night.  
  
"Don't think they had much sense to begin with," Buffy quipped, plunging the stake into one heart and then the other. She disappeared behind a shadow of dust.  
  
A left hook took Spike down. It was a sucker punch coming almost from behind, but the effect was the same. Vampires didn't fight fair. He would be the first one to tell someone that. The dirt and grass were cool against his cheek as he hit the dirt.  
  
A primal scream filled his ears and he lifted his head, shaking the stars and cartoon birds from his vision. There she was, taking on the Vampire who had taken him down, screaming, teeth bared, battering the creature with all she had and a bit more. Spike pulled himself to his knees, grabbing the stake that had rolled from his hand and jumped up, joining her in the fray.  
  
There had been six. Six adult Vampires. Two of which, Spike sensed, were older than he. Strong Vampires. Not the kind that usually spent their nights haunting Sunnydale. That, in and of itself, would have been cause for concern, but there was more to worry about tonight. The little blonde whirlwind fighting beside him. Yes, she was still defending the good. Yes, she was still fighting by his side. But what was once grace and poetry was now fists and fangs. Her body was a weapon. And she reveled in it. Joyously giggling at every punch she threw. Every kick that sent a creature skittering across the grass. Ever drop of blood she could force them to bleed before she finally put them out of their misery.  
  
Spike had mercifully dusted all but the one that she had been fighting with. The oldest of the pack. He was strong, but she was angry and happy and full of a rage that she had no clue how to control. Her punch landed on the Vampire's temple, knocking it to the ground. Buffy pounced like a jungle cat onto its prey and straddled the creature's chest. She could have staked him then. But instead, she leaned forward, whispering something into its ear that made his eyes grow wide. She righted herself, and then plunged the stake into its heart.  
  
Spike stood, watching in horror, wondering if this is what she had seen. If this is what she had thought when they had done battle. If this is why she couldn't bring herself to love him right away. It shouldn't have bothered him. He had a patent on that kind of fight. That kind of violence without torture. But coming from her, it was just wrong.  
  
She knelt on the ground in her victim's dust and turned, smiling. "That was fun," she purred, pushing herself to her feet.  
  
Spike walked towards her cautiously, not sure if she had gotten it all out. If she was done with the pummeling for the evening. Not that he cared. Wouldn't have been the first time they'd fought to the pain. But bigger things were on his mind. Control. She was taking on his demon, but where he'd had over a century to tame it, make it work to his advantage, she had one day. One long, frightening day.  
  
What happens if she gets hungry? Spike thought.  
  
"What did you say to him, Pet?" He asked, sensing her spirit still inside this tainted shell in front of him. She was calming, her heart slowing.  
  
Buffy smiled and her teeth were still white and shining in the moonlight. "That was between me and It."  
  
"I see," Spike said, choosing to drop it for now. "Sure you won't tell? Seemed to scare the fangs off of him."  
  
Buffy sighed. "You're no fun. I told him that I'd send him to hell, where he belonged. Where all of them belonged."  
  
The words shook Spike. He had become more human in the past half a decade, but he was still a Vampire. Still one of them. "Buffy, is that what you really think?"  
  
Her brow furrowed, her eyes glittering up at him. "Is what what I really think?"  
  
"That all Vampires belong in hell," Spike said, moving towards the mausoleum. He watched her sniff the air, noticing the whimpering girl curled against the brick wall. Slowly, she stalked towards her, scenting her, dropping to her knees at the girl's feet. Spike watched as Buffy ran her face just millimetres from the girl's skin, as if inhaling her taste, then ran a smooth pink tongue over the girl's wounds. He shuddered in horror.  
  
"Buffy!" He grabbed her by the collar of her jacket, picking her up like an errant pup and spinning her towards him. "You should run now," Spike said to the girl. The hapless teen struggled to her feet and then scampered off into the moonlight.  
  
"No fun," Buffy repeated, her eyes now exploring his face with the same feral look that she had worn since the fight began.  
  
Spike took her pretty face between his hands. "Buffy? Listen, Pet."  
  
"Okay," she drew out, her nose nuzzling his neck, her tongue tracing the pulse point at the base. He took her shoulders and pushed her away.  
  
"Love," he whispered, taking her face again. "This spell. It's changing you. Don't want you to do anything you'd regret, all right? You're going to have to listen to me."  
  
Buffy closed her eyes, listening to the sound of his voice. "Okay," she sighed. "What do I do?"  
  
"We need to get you home, Love. Suss out what's going on." He stroked her hair as he spoke, feeling her starting to quiver in his arms. She was remembering. The spell was backing down. Buffy was coming back. But still, her eyes were squeezed tight.  
  
"Spike," she whispered, her breath catching as she began to cry. "God,"  
  
"S'alright, Pet. No harm," he whispered, fighting his own fear. "Just need to control it. I'll help you. You'll be right as rain."  
  
Her eyes flickered open again and they were hers. Green and brilliant and sweet. "Spike, God, I'm so hungry."  
  
To be contd. 


	18. Righteous

Good evening, One and All,  
  
Okay, so I was a bit late. But here is chapter eighteen. As we are about to get a heck of a snowstorm in my area of the world, I will probably be snowed in and doing little else but write in the next few days (oh, and tend to a recuperating puppy and several chilly horses). I do hope to go back to having two chapters out next week - probably Wednesday and Sunday. :::crosses fingers in hope::::  
  
Thanks for all the get well wishes. I seem to be doing much better, as is Rupert. Still a little tuckered, but not bad, all things considered. I am grateful for your understanding and patience.  
  
That being said, I'm off to write some more. Hope you all have a lovely weekend and for those of you who are about to get pummeled by the snow, hope you have lots of TP!  
  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
Title: Righteous (Chapter Eighteen of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at .  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Buffy and Spike patrol and realize that Buffy's situation is progressing. Anya, Tara, Willow and Takina start on their mission to discovery Draconius's plan and receive some help from a junior Scooby. Xander finds out that there is a secret plot of which he seems to be the only one not in the know.  
  
Righteous  
"You've got to learn to control it, Pet," Spike breathed, his arms wrapped tight around her shaking form. She clung to his waist, her head buried in his chest, deep, wracking breaths making her entire body shudder.  
  
"I.I don't want to have to control it," Buffy muttered. Her voice was as shaky as her body. "I want it to stop. To go. Do something."  
  
Spike stroked her hair, never letting up on the pressure of his arm around her. "We'll sort it out, Love. But until then, you can't let it run rampant in you. Gotta control it. Gotta make it work for you."  
  
Buffy's eyes darted up and caught in his. Hers were normal again. Human. Sweet. Afraid. "Spike, what if. what if this never stops?" A sob caught in her throat.  
  
He sighed, pulling her impossibly closer. "Cross that bridge when we come to it, Love. I'll show you. Teach you how to control it."  
  
She nodded, her body still shaking under his strong arms. "What.what do I do with all this.all this.rage? And the bloodlust? Where'd that come from?" It was the best she could do. She mustered a smile.  
  
Spike returned her gesture in kind, letting her go enough to brush her hair from her face. She was Buffy again, but that feral being was right under the surface. What scared him most was that part of him was horrified by it. And part of him was completely aroused. He wasn't sure if it was the part of him that had taken on Buffy that was disgusted or excited, but he was starting to think she might be a bit of both when she looked at him like that. When she saw his beast. "You can't become the scourge of Sunnydale, Pet. Undermine the whole chosen one image, you would."  
  
She chuckled, pushing herself half a step away, but keeping her hands pressed against him. Buffy felt as if she might lose it again without the feel of his heart under her fingertips. The sounds of his breath. "No scourging. Cutting bloody swaths through Sunnydale is definitely not of the good."  
  
"No, Pet," Spike agreed with a soft nod of the head. "It's not."  
  
She turned on a heel, facing away, her hands still finding a way to keep holding onto him. His wrist was clutched in her hand. "So, what do I do with it, Spike?"  
  
Spike moved in behind her, pressing his chest hard to her back. "You've got a few choices, Love."  
  
"What.how. what works for you? How did you go all that time when. when you were a Vampire.? I mean a not breathing, heartbeat-y Vampire. and not feed? Not.kill things?" Buffy asked, still looking away. It was too hard to look at him. To let him see what she was becoming.  
  
"Well," Spike whispered, brushing her hair away and looping it behind her ear. He spoke so that his lips brushed against the delicate shell of her earlobe with every word. "Started by eating pig's blood and feeling sorry for myself. Not much for the bloodlust when one is brooding."  
  
She chuckled, letting her back fall against his chest. Spike pulled her in closer, his lips still caressing her ear with every syllable. "After that, realized that I could kill demons. Put us on the same side. Didn't care much. Just wanted the violence."  
  
Buffy nodded, her eyes slipping closed. "I get that. I mean now."  
  
"I know," Spike said softly, almost regretfully. He took a deep breath, bringing himself back in control. "Then there was you."  
  
A quiet smile broke across Buffy's face. "What about me?"  
  
"First off, right fine fighter you are. A good round with you'd shore up the rage for a week or two." Buffy chuckled, letting one hand snake behind her and her palm falling on the nape of his neck.  
  
"So, we could fight?" Buffy questioned, knowing he had more to say. Feeling him press his jeans against hers and understanding that a good battle or bloodletting wasn't the only way to satisfy the beast.  
  
"We could," Spike purred, his teeth nipping the edge of that delicate ear. "See, after a few long, tense years, I also realized that a righteous shag would do the trick as well."  
  
A laugh escaped her throat, making her whole body shake against his, letting all the right parts rub against each other. She felt it start, low and tight in her belly. "Righteous, hunh?"  
  
"Not just any shag, Pet. Had to be you. Only you. Had to be that sweet combination of rose petals and steel fists, broken beds and little.whispered.words," Spike punctuated each of the last sounds with a kiss, making her body electrify on contact.  
  
"And that worked? I mean, to quell the beast?" Buffy asked, her other hand now searching behind her and finding his denim clad backside under her palm. Oops, she thought as she gave it a squeeze.  
  
Spike chuckled, although it was more of a purr. "Well, wouldn't say it was quelled, but it was certainly tired enough after that it didn't care to rip out the throats of passers-by."  
  
She had no choice but to laugh again, making their bodies that much closer, vibrating with the sound of her giggles echoing under her skin. "So, you think that I should start at the beginning then? Demon slaughter?"  
  
"Passed that test, Love," Spike whispered, his hands now aimlessly wandering along the waist of her jeans, his fingers cool with the night air, skimming her skin like a breeze.  
  
"So, I need to skip to the brawling with you?" She asked, her body now completely on fire by his caresses. His hands slid under her shirt to rest lightly upon her flat belly.  
  
"You could," Spike continued, his fingers relentlessly tracing delicate patterns on the smooth expanse of her torso, working ever closer to the scrap of lace she liked to call a bra.  
  
"Or," Buffy said, her voice low and quiet as that pull in her belly warmed her skin. "I could skip to the righteousness."  
  
"Or any combination thereof," Spike agreed, his mouth working down her neck as if on a mission to meet his hands.  
  
Buffy sighed, her body nearly melting against his. She felt both helpless and utterly powerful against him. Something in her was so grateful. So thankful that he had seen her like he just had and still wanted to be part of her. "You're not all grossed out?" Buffy asked, her voice hesitant for the first time since he'd made contact.  
  
He pushed himself hard against her. "No, Pet," he hummed against the skin of her neck, his tongue flickering over the big pulse. "Not likely."  
  
"So, what do we have to do to make this righteous shagging thing work?" Buffy asked, pushing herself back into him like a giant cat rubbing against his legs. An involuntary moan escaped his lips.  
  
"Think you'll figure it out," Spike answered, lifting her into his arms and carrying her off towards the Crypt. "Trust me?"  
  
"Always," Buffy answered, her eyes serious and light. It was the last thing she said before her lips found his.  
Dawn watched them from the staircase. Tara, Willow, and Takina sat in a circle with candles all around them. Anya sat in the center looking amazingly bored. They hadn't started yet. The only reason Dawn could even tell is that nothing weird had happened in the house. That much mojo in that small a space generally caused at least the lights to malfunction, if not the entire electrical system.  
  
"So, what do you think? I mean, the dropping down the rabbit hole bit wasn't that bad.." Willow said, a shy smile breaking on her face. She remembered looking for Spike using a similar spell. It stood to reason the journey would be a lot easier on a demon accustomed to interdimensional travel.  
  
"I don't see why you don't let me just teleport," Anya complained, her hands still on her hips even sitting down. The aggravation played like a cartoon across her features.  
  
"B.because if you teleport using your own power. then we can't anchor you. Giles said." Tara stuttered. She'd always been a little intimidated by the demon. Something about her brazenness.  
  
"Giles this, Giles that. When you gonna learn he's just a *man*!" Anya huffed. "And by nature, all men are wrong." She thought about it a moment. "Although he's less wrong than most, and far yummier and his penis.."  
  
"Ewww, enough!" Willow shouted, squirming. "No penis. Especially no Giles.. Ewwww."  
  
Anya smiled victoriously. There was something about embarrassing the other girls that made her giddy. "All right. So, no teleporting. But the rabbit hole thing." Anya whined, shifting around in the center.  
  
Takina wisely kept her mouth shut. If there was one thing she had learned while in this extended family she had become a part of, it was do not speak about things you don't know more than the others about, and don't try to win a verbal sparring match with any of them. Particularly not Anya.  
  
"Guys?" Dawn said tentatively from the staircase. All eyes fluttered up to her in varying stages of annoyance. The girl cringed.  
  
"What?" Anya asked, still annoyed. "Come to watch me plummet through space as a little ball of light?" She thought again. "Can you even see that from here?"  
  
"No," Willow answered, swinging her head towards the demon and then back at Dawn. "What is it, Dawnie?"  
  
"Uh, Key here?" Dawn contributed. "Open small portals in a single drop?"  
  
Takina smiled, nodding at the girl. Finally, a voice of reason. And to think it came from the youngest of the bunch. "Not bad, Dawn."  
  
Dawn smiled gleefully. "See!"  
  
"That would require blood and I don't know if I want to take my chances with Buffy and/or Spike right now," Willow said softly. "But thanks for the offer."  
  
Dawn's face fell in disappointment. "It only takes a little."  
  
"Dawn," Willow began. Tara touched her arm, nodding softly. If the girl wanted to help, let her help. She thought it loud enough that her lover could hear her.  
  
Willow sighed, looking at Anya. "Portal work for you?"  
  
A big smile lit up Anya's face. "Much, much better. Thank you. Now, can you go through while you're invisible? Rupert said they shouldn't see me."  
  
"I thought you didn't *care* what Giles thought," Tara teased, the softness of her face melting even Anya.  
  
"Well, sometimes," the demon admitted. "And I do have a young son and plan on many more, which means many more rounds of."  
  
"Enough with the visuals!" Willow shrieked, cringing. "Dawnie, who's with the kids?"  
  
"Why do you think I'm down here?" Dawn asked, descending the staircase. "It's like Mr. Mom upstairs. Cyrus has Em and Will, Giles has Randy. Xander's up there with River playing keep away from Spike's son and Oz is trying to entertain them with the wonder that is wolf noises."  
  
"No Buffy or Spike?" Takina asked, looking up at Dawn's smiling face from her perch on the floor.  
  
Dawn shook her head. "Nope. Longish patrol. Either means that the demon population multiplied overnight or they're doing the naked lambada."  
  
"Okay, have I said enough with the visuals?" Willow asked, not that imagining Buffy and Spike together was nearly as traumatic as imagining Giles naked, but still.  
  
Dawn giggled. "Oh, are you so glad you don't live here anymore then."  
  
"Sit. Bleed," Willow joked, moving over and letting Dawn into the circle. Dawn plopped down, grateful to finally be of some sort of help, and rolled up a sleeve.  
  
"So, what does bring you back into town, Oz?" Xander asked, picking up River and moving her three feet further away from Will. It was like Sisyphus trying to roll the boulder up the mountain. Each time he did it, the little boy would find the little girl. This he didn't like. No child of Spike's was going *near* River until at least her. ever.  
  
"Um, work. Life. Spike asked for some help," Oz evaded, chasing Emma around the room on all fours. Emma giggled madly, dodging his swatting paws. Well, what would be paws were it a full moon.  
  
Giles cleared his throat at Oz's answer. Part of him wanted to chuckle. Part wanted to hide. Knowing why Oz was really back was a bit uncomfortable for the Watcher. Knowing that Xander would eventually find out was almost amusing.  
  
Xander shot Giles a glance. He knows something, Xander thought. Something I don't. "Nothing in particular? I mean, Dawn said she heard you guys talking after we left the other night."  
  
Oz continued his chase, never breaking stride. "Nothing particularly particular. Unless you mean specifically particular."  
  
"Good answer. Evasive, but good," Xander snarked, finally giving up and letting River free on the floor. It took about a half a millisecond for her to stumble to Will and fall in a heap next to him, her little head leaned into his good arm.  
  
Cyrus stood. "Shall I make some tea?"  
  
"Might be a good idea," Giles replied. "It looks to be a long night in the making."  
  
Cyrus nodded, glancing at Emma and took his leave. Oz still chased her playfully, his energy almost as boundless as hers. "Just. it's up to Willow to tell you, man."  
  
"Ah ha!" Xander shouted, raising one finger in the air. "So there *is* a big secret that you're keeping from me." His face slackened as he thought about it. A pout broke on his lips, and his words became softer. "That Willow's keeping from me."  
  
Oz stopped, pulling the giggling Emma down on his lap. "No, man. It's not like that. I mean, it's just. It's not a secret like that. Just something she has to figure out how to tell you."  
  
"She told *you* and you haven't been around for years!" Xander countered, trapped firmly between hurt and annoyed.  
  
Giles sighed. "The only reason she has discussed this with Oz and not with you is because Oz is. involved."  
  
The wolf had suspected that Giles knew, but it still made him blush when his suspicions were confirmed. "Well, yeah," he agreed. "And Spike asked me to ."  
  
"Wait. Giles knows? Spike? Who else?" Xander retorted, jumping from his chair and beginning to stalk the room.  
  
Giles pulled off his glasses, wiping them on the edge of Randy's jumper. "Well, Buffy. And of course, Anya. "  
  
"And Tara," Oz contributed, smiling.  
  
Xander's eyes went wide. "And you said Dawn overheard it?"  
  
"Spike kicked her out before she heard the whole thing," Oz comforted, tickling Emma as she giggled on the floor.  
  
"So, Dawn doesn't know.," Xander said relieved. A horrible thought occurred to him. The ultimate betrayal. "Ta..Takina?"  
  
Giles looked at Oz. Oz at Giles. They both shrugged. "Don't think so, Man," Oz finally answered.  
  
Xander paced the room in long circuits, his anger and his hurt bubbling to the surface. "So why? Why didn't she tell me? *What* didn't she tell me?"  
  
"I'm afraid it's up to her to decide when the time is right," Giles answered, shifting Randy in his lap.  
  
Xander shot a pleading look to Oz. "Look, trust me when I say that I'd tell ya if I could. I would. In a second. Maybe half. But it's not mine to tell."  
  
"Willow," Xander said. It was more like a rush of air than a word.  
  
To be contd. 


	19. Falling Into Darkness

Good evening, One and All,  
  
Well, what with the snow and the massive cabin fever, I do believe that I will be able to get you three chapters this week. Tonight, Friday and Sunday. Don't hold me to the Friday release, but I will try.  
  
The angst is starting and it will get *very* angsty. But hang on. This is new for me. In the past, I have created drama by separating Buffy and Spike. In this story, they will be together through it all. But what happens to them may seem worse for it.  
  
Still, I am a firm believer in happy endings, so please please don't send me hate mail! You will be handsomely rewarded. And for those of you who have been emailing me about an NC-17 chapter, I am entertaining the idea. If you want it badly enough, I will see what I can do.  
  
Thanks for hanging in there with me. Hope it has been worth the wait!  
  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
Title: Falling into Darkness (Chapter Nineteen of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at .  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Anya is delivered to La Maison Rouge by the circle of women. The pawn surveys her opponents. Spike teaches Buffy how to control the beast if for only a moment. But at what price?  
  
Falling into Darkness  
Anya felt herself step through the portal and her skin seemed to have stayed behind. She looked down upon herself and saw nothing. It made her feel somehow naked. But not in the good, Rupert and a box of chocolate covered strawberries way. In a bad, if I had skin it might crawl sort of way.  
  
There was a silver tether attached to her, Although she couldn't see her or the tether, she knew it was there. She could *feel* it anchoring her to the rest of them. To Willow, in particular. Anya could feel Willow in her head like a mission control.  
  
"Just see what you can find," the red head's voice spoke into her mind.  
  
"And how am I supposed to do that when I can't find me," Anya snarked, taking a step into the rocky landscape.  
  
"Just try, okay?" "Whoever said I cared all that much about Buffy and Spike to do all this," Anya griped as she began her trek through the endless fields of rocks. The screaming didn't bother her. In fact, it was kind of comforting. It was the fact that feet she could not see were getting bruised by the pebbles. Somewhere, she hoped she didn't get un-invisible because she had a pretty good idea that she was naked.  
  
The voice in her head sighed. "So, you want to see Buffy turn into a Vampire and Spike have to raise their poor little children alone? Ooh, or worse yet, Buffy goes all bumpy, Spike loses his mind, and you and Giles have to raise Emma and Will and Giles says that he can't afford any more kids so you can't go to the spa anymore nor can you have anymore of your own." That'll hit her where it hurt, Willow thought.  
  
Anya sighed to herself. "I would have just done it for Buffy and Spike," she whispered to the air. "I mean, superhero, disgustingly happy types that they are, they still are my friends."  
  
"Oh," Willow muttered into Anya's head.  
  
"What am I supposed to be looking for anyway?" Anya asked, hopping as a sharper rock penetrated her non existent foot.  
  
"Dunno, exactly. Signs of Draconius? Maybe with Luke? Any idea of what they're doing."  
  
"You couldn't have dropped me closer to La Maison Rouge?" Anya grouched as she stopped to look around the barren red world of rocks and death.  
  
"Sorry," Dawn's voice chimed in.  
  
"Oh, that's just great," the demon snarked. "Not only am I invisible and naked in hell, but I have the entire Mickey Mouse Club in my head. I tortured some of them you know?"  
  
"You're naked?" Willow asked. Tara nudged her with a patient smile. "I mean, we sent you visible but without clothes."  
  
Anya let out a huge sigh. "No, ,my lesbian friend. I am *both* invisible and naked, thank you very much. But we'll talk about that when I get back. Now cut the crap and tell me where I am.."  
The woman moved from her hiding place in the shed and crept along the tree line until she could find a dark patch near the house. She knew she didn't want to be seen, but the interior of the abode was lit up as if it were evening rush, not three am. It was odd.  
  
Slowly, she made her way to the side, her body pressed along the siding of the house. She didn't want to be seen from the road or from inside. She wasn't sure why. Just that it wasn't time they saw her yet. Wasn't time for her to play.  
  
Something sunk in her heart, or what she thought was her heart, as she stood up on her tip toes and looked inside the window. There were three men in there. She recognized them all, but something low and feral in her belly recognized the eldest of them. Something wicked and kind all at once.  
  
In his lap was a baby. Horrid little screaming things, some alien part of her said. But the remnant of her heart felt warm and alive looking at the man leaning back in the chair with the small child sprawled against his chest. They were both asleep. Didn't matter. She didn't know them anyway.  
  
There were two other men. They had been here before. She didn't know how she knew, but she did. Except last time, there weren't any of the little loud people. Well, what had been little loud people. Now they were just little people. The two younger men were back to the window, watching television. An older child, blonde and so very familiar was stretched between them, her head resting on a pillow and her forehead pressed to one of the men's arms. As if touching someone was a comfort. Thing didn't know any better. There was no comfort in others. There was no comfort. Only emptiness and torture and death.  
  
There were two smaller children curled around each other like feral kittens on the couch. One light haired. One dark. The light haired boy was the one with the yellow arm. The one that she recognized before. The eerie familiarity of them all was unnerving, but especially with him. She wanted to care. She wanted to know. But she couldn't. She couldn't be bothered. So, she watched. And thought. And felt the bracelet grow warm against her arm and bring her eyes back to the eldest child.  
  
Pretty little girl. That was the one she was after. All sweetness and light and beauty. Horrid, stupid little girl. Dead. Or whatever the woman's master wanted. It wasn't up to her. Still, that strange familiarity bothered her. At least now she knew. Now she knew why she was in this cold, awful place.  
  
Her.  
  
The little, blonde, ball of light, curled on the floor. She was meant to take it away. Make it gone. She wanted that to seem wrong but it didn't. So she watched.  
"You feeling any better, Pet?" Spike asked, rolling over stiffly on the carpet. His body was a mass of bruises and possibly a broken bone or two, but nothing major. It had been worth every second.  
  
She hummed her response, still prone on the floor, her arms stretched out over her head and one beautiful leg cocked out to the side.  
  
"Take that as a yes," he answered, a wicked grin breaking on his face. His hands trailed the length of her stretched torso. She looked none the worse for wear. He'd wondered if that is what it had been like before. When they..when she had been the one coming to him here. Taking him. If she had been as bruised as he was and he was stretched out like the cat that ate the canary. It made him tense.  
  
The same thought wandered through her mind as she turned her head on a neck now as limp as a spaghetti noodle and took in the sight of his body. He was beautiful and pale in the candle light, but she could see the outlines of where her hands had choked his neck. Where her fists had made contact against his ribs. Where her nails had clawed bloody trails down his chest. She breathed, but it was more just a sharp intake of air. Is this what he could have done to her but didn't?  
  
Buffy's hand shook as she reached out, tracing the raging bruises on his ribs. "Spike." she breathed, her mind full of regret. The beast was gone now, but she felt it right below the surface. Waiting. "S'alright, Love," Spike answered, taking her wrist and steadying her hand. "Vampire. Heal up nicely."  
  
"Did I.," Buffy breathed, her fingers running up and down the claw marks. He winced involuntarily. So did she.  
  
Spike's eyes closed, taking in a deep breath. "Not like it wasn't pleasant for me as well. You know I've always liked a little pain chaser."  
  
She sat up, searching for a sheet to cover herself but finding nothing. Her eyes were huge and afraid. He felt it boil inside of her. That fear. She needed to believe this wasn't real. That she could control it. But she couldn't. At least, not without . this. first. "Spike."  
  
She looked so small and cold with her knees drawn to her chest, her arms hugging them tighter as if her legs might drop away if she didn't hold them there. Spike scanned the room, finding a blanket and standing to retrieve it. The crypt was cold in the late December air, but that wasn't what was making her shiver. It was this.  
  
Buffy took the blanket willingly; wrapping it around her shoulders and cuddling it close, as if it was all that attached her to the world. Spike looked at her with sad blue eyes, brushing hair from her face. "Little chilly out here, Pet. Mind if I share?"  
  
She shook her head silently, still staring at the bruises on his beautiful chest. He took the blanket from her, wrapping it around his back and pulling her into his lap, closing it in front of her. Buffy trembled against him, her body cold to the touch. It was worse now. And her fear would bring back the beast if he couldn't calm her.  
  
"Buffy, you didn't hurt me, Love. Wouldn't have let you. Strengths haven't changed. Just roles," Spike comforted, his arms wrapping tighter around him, pressing her against his warm, naked body. Hoping it would warm her own again.  
  
"But I tried," she whispered, almost too quietly to hear.  
  
He kissed her cheek softly. "No, Love. Weren't trying to hurt me. Just got a bit carried away in the moment is all. Not the first time we've banged each other up a bit."  
  
Buffy was silent a long moment. "You could have.. Back before. When this all started with us. You could have hurt me like I hurt you. Couldn't you?"  
  
Spike thought of the right way to answer it. "Didn't exactly let you off the hook easy either, Pet. Seem to remember you leaving her a few nights with a bruise or two."  
  
"Not like this," Buffy answered her voice distant. "I.I don't.I don't remember."  
  
"Don't remember what, Love?" Spike asked. He chuckled in the silence. "You telling me that a round with your worse half is no longer even memorable?"  
  
It brought a smile to her face, if just for a moment. "No, stupid. You're always.memorable." She was quiet, trying to relax back into his chest. She wanted to fall into him. To let him in her mind and to let herself into his and find that which was theirs together. But she was afraid. Terrified that this would change that. Afraid that if she let him in, he'd see her darkness. "But I don't remember. I don't remember hurting you."  
  
"Wasn't arguing the point," Spike responded, burying his face in her hair. "Don't mind it rough."  
  
She turned, straining to look at him. "You don't mind playing rough. You never hurt me. Not like this." She thought for a second, watching his face darken. "Did I say. did I say anything when I was hurting you?"  
  
He cringed, remembering the words coming out of her mouth. Horrible, feral words. Words about sex and violence and his meaning in her life. It reminded him of being her walking sex toy before Emma was born. She rode him into oblivion but it didn't mean a thing. Spike knew that wasn't the case now. Knew in his heart that his Buffy, his love, was still in there. The girl who could break his body with her strength and mend it with her tenderness. The tenderness had just gone missing for the night. "Nothing, Pet," Spike answered. He lied.  
  
"You're lying," she sighed, turning away from him again. "I did."  
  
"Nothing important, Love. I know that it's not you then. it's me. My demon. And you don't know how to control it," Spike whispered, reeling her back against him. She had tried to scoot as far away as she could without losing the blanket. He wouldn't let her. Couldn't let this tear them apart. He felt their connection fading and he couldn't, he *wouldn't* let that happen.  
  
Spike felt her hitch as the first tear streamed down her face. "Spike, I don't know what to do." she whispered softly, her arms drawn tight against her chest.  
  
He pulled her impossibly closer. "I won't lose you, Buffy. I won't let it take you. You know that. You have to trust me."  
  
She turned to face him again, eyes glittering with unshed tears. "How.how do I control it?"  
  
Spike smiled softly. "You're you now, right, Love?" He asked, pushing her hair behind her ear. "My girl?"  
  
She smiled. "Yes."  
  
"So, I guess the righteous shag worked," he snarked, a sly smile painting his lips.  
  
Buffy returned it a moment, but it faded like magic ink. "But not without a price." She turned her face away. He grabbed her chin with his hand and turned her face back to his.  
  
"One that I am willing to pay. I would pay any price to keep you. You know that," he stressed, his eyes so serious and so full of love.  
  
Buffy thought for a moment. "I know," she finally relented. She was silent for a long moment. "Do you think that we can make this stop?"  
  
He nodded, silently. "I do. I think we can beat anything. Just have to keep it in check while the rest sort it out."  
  
"All right," Buffy sighed, trying to calm herself. She leaned back into his chest, feeling his warmth. Letting that part of him that adored her back into her mind. It calmed her, filling her with the scent or warm apples and cinnamon and the spice of his skin. She sighed again.  
  
A thought struck her like a tidal wave and she jumped. "Emma!"  
  
The way she said it made Spike's own heart leap. "What is it, Buffy? Something happen?"  
  
"No," she answered, her body quaking, but her voice calming. "But what if I. what if.." Her voice dropped to an almost inaudible whisper. "What if I lose control around them?"  
  
Spike thought for a moment, pulling her closer. Wanting to protect her from that which lay beneath. "Are you afraid that you will hurt them?"  
  
She spun, her face inches from his, full of terror and anger and frustration. "I would never hurt them. Not on purpose. You know that, right?"  
  
"Of course, Pet," Spike whispered, planting soft kisses on her shoulder. "You're a perfect mum to them."  
  
"But I would never hurt you on purpose either. Not anymore. And. I did." The last words were hushed, shaking in the air like leaves in the wind.  
  
Spike held her closer. "What do you want me to do, Pet?"  
  
"Keep them safe, Spike," Buffy whispered, burying her head in his shoulder. "Don't let me hurt them."  
  
"You won't, Love," he answered, pulling him to her, cradling her like she was a child herself.  
  
She sobbed a moment, clinging to him, and then turned her gaze up to meet his, her eyes suddenly resolute. "I want you to kill me if I do. Kill me if I try."  
  
Spike's eyes grew wide, his heart racing and sinking and his stomach doing flip flops. "Buffy?" His voice shook and sounded foreign even to him.  
  
Her hand reached up to cup his cheek. "Spike, they're the ones that deserve saving. If I try to hurt them.. Emma. She's. The World will suffer without her."  
  
"The bloody *World* would suffer without *you*," Spike spit out, trying to control his anger. "You, Love. You *are* my world. I won't let you hurt them, but I am *not* going to kill you."  
  
Buffy swallowed, her other hand finding his cheek, forcing him to look at her. "Spike, if I hurt them. If for no other reason, then I couldn't live with myself. I couldn't look at you. I can't think that I'd." Her eyes spilled huge silver tears. "Please."  
  
He melted under her wet, beautiful eyes. Spike understood that. Knowing that something would be too much to bear. Too much to live with. But he wouldn't let it happen. Never. Slowly, he nodded. "All right, Love. But I will *never* let you hurt them. And I won't let you leave me. Never. All right?"  
  
Buffy nodded, burying her head in his shoulder once more. Something in her head wondered how many moments of this she had left. How many times would she feel like her and be able to find solace in his arms? Fear took her. Fear that she would soon be lost to the darkness. It wasn't that that scared her most. It was losing him. Losing them. Sinking into oblivion and never feeling his arms around her and never knowing her children's kisses and sweetness again.  
  
Falling into the dark alone.  
  
Spike felt her pull her mind away and pulled her closer. "You have to stay with me, Pet. Can't fight this unless you stay with me. Gotta let me help."  
  
She let her head drop onto his shoulder once again. "Don't let me go away."  
  
"I won't, Love," Spike answered, raining desperate kisses on her face. "Never let you go."  
  
To be contd. 


	20. Daytime TV

Good evening, One and All,  
  
Well, it's a three fer week. The being snowed in made the muse nuts and she just wrote a *lot* to get it all out! Anyway, I will be able to release three chapters this week and possibly three next week as well. Thank goodness for my awesome (and busy) betas.  
  
Again, the angst is starting to roll. This one's not too bad, but what is to come is going to be tough, so get your happy while you can. Still, I will drop you off in a nice, happy place. You can trust me on that.  
  
Without further ado.enjoy!  
  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
Title: Daytime TV (Chapter Twenty of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at .  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Draconius and Luke discuss the success of their plan. Anya eavesdrops in hell. Buffy and Spike deal with the ramifications of her inability to control the beast.  
  
Daytime TV  
"Well, what's she doing?" Luke asked, nearly hopping around the floor in anticipation. Draconius held the monitor in his outstretched hands. Interdimensional travel and a life of evil had made him far sighted.  
  
"She seems to be looking in on a trivial lot of hangers-on," the oldest Earth evil responded, watching the monitor picture move as the pawn wagged her head to and fro, surveying the scene.  
  
Luke scooted over next to Draconius, his eyes surveying the monitor. "What is that? Some sort of day care center for hell spawn?"  
  
"It is their home, you dimwit," Draconius responded, stepping away so that the monitor was out of Luke's reach. Luke responded by moving a step himself and pressing against the old one's shoulder. Which made Drac uncomfortable.  
  
"How many kids do they *have*?" Luke asked, crinkling his nose as if the sight disgusted him. "And they're all close to the same age except the big blonde one. I didn't know humans had *litters*."  
  
Draconius shook his head, a long sigh escaping his lips. Anger would do *nothing* to make his stay in the god-forsaken dimension any easier. And it looked like he'd be here a while. The little girl had lots of growing to do before her virtue could be voluntarily unbound. "They are not all *hers* you moron."  
  
"Oh," Luke chirped, squinting at the screen. "Well, then why are they there?"  
  
Draconius snapped the monitor back into the base and spun to look at the hell god. "Did you learn nothing about the dimension adjacent to your own in all your years of. ruling?"  
  
"Never bothered," Luke answered, straightening his blood red tie and flopping foppishly into a red velvet chair. "I mean, other than what made it here, what's there to know?"  
  
"The Slayer? The Vampire of Heart? The One? The Peacemaker?" Draconius ticked off, pacing in front of the fireplace.  
  
Luke looked confused. "Less I'm not following something, Champ, they're *there*, I'm here, and they can't come here unless they die. Well, except for the Vampire. What with the demon and all. Hey, I wonder if the Slayer could come now too since you screwed up their little One mojo.."  
  
Draconius snorted in disgust. "The Slayer. The One is a concern to *all* dimensions. The greatest worry, that is until we let it get far enough that she actually produced that nightmare of a child. Now, the Peacemaker is out to rid evil from the dimensions. *That*, my insolent friend, would have a great effect on you."  
  
"Oh," Luke repeated, this time, his voice soft. "So, you think the Peacemaker is coming here?"  
  
Draconius pulled a chair angrily in front of Luke and sat down, leaning forward until his face was mere inches from the resident hell god. "Let me ask you something, Lucifer?"  
  
Luke looked frightened. "Uh. yeah?"  
  
"Why, exactly, do you think we're going through all this? Why do you think we sold a large quantity of power to a corrupt heavenly minion to borrow the only creature of heaven that might possibly be immune to the instant kill reaction of said Slayer and said Vampire? And why do you think we spend our days watching a monitor to see what the zombified, temporarily soulless remains of said creature will do to enable our bidding? And why do we care? What is the point?"  
  
Luke shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Thems a lot of questions, parner."  
  
Draconius smirked. "I will tell you why, then. But I will only explain this *once* more." With lightning speed, the Old One grabbed Luke's wrists, pulling him forward until their lips almost touched. "We need the Peacemaker. We need her alive. Only because I will revel in her torture and death. We cannot have a demon do our bidding because the One would simply kill a creature of hell without afterthought. We sent the woman who was once integral to the Slayer's life to enact our spell so that she could slip around unnoticed, spreading our. gift of enlightenment. to the Vampire and the Slayer."  
  
"Why are we giving them gifts again?" Luke asked, his nose again wrinkled in confusion.  
  
"Listen, you numbskull!" Draconius shouted, slapping the side of Luke's head with an open palm. "It is not a gift to them at all. We crossed their channels. Disrupted what it is that makes them the One. Let his essence creep into her and hers into him until their roles are confused."  
  
Luke tilted his head. "I don't get it, though. The Vampire wasn't really all that evil *before* he got all jiggy with the Blondie."  
  
"He also had over a hundred years to learn to control the demon. She does not. She will feel as he did when he first rose. All bloodlust and death. He will try and save her. They will leave the paltry excuse for a gang in charge of the care of their daughter. The woman will be able to walk right under their noses and take her. Bring her back to me." Draconius sat back into his chair, luxuriating in the plan. One that was working. Finally. Despite Luke.  
  
Luke crossed one ankle over one knee and sat back. "Is there any way they can stop this? I mean, anything cutie pie and her little blondie bear can do to make the reversal stop?"  
  
Draconius nodded. "It will wear off on its own once the pawn is removed. Back to their normal, happy existence. Oh, except missing their precious daughter. That might take out a little happy."  
  
Luke grinned in response. "How bout anything else? I mean, the Slayer has been alive longer than the others because she has back up. Which, I'm guessing, is where the Next Generation Child Care center comes into it."  
  
The Old One sighed. "They could. They could break the spell earlier. But only if they discover our pawn. If they break the amulet, the essences will return to balance."  
  
"*That's* not good," Luke sighed. "What's stopping them from doing that?"  
  
Draconius smiled. "As obvious as it seems, and as simple, it has one major drawback, hence my choice of pawn."  
  
A grin broke on the hell god's face. "Yeah? What's that?"  
  
"If they break the amulet, the woman dies. If she dies before the Heavenly ones have reclaimed her soul, which could be weeks with all the red tape, then she belongs to us. If they learn the information on how to deactivate the spell in the Horasci texts, they will surely also know that breaking the amulet will return the automaton to her last known dimension of residence. Permanently."  
  
"And in the case of our poor old girl, that's here," Luke smiled, victoriously. "I liked her too. She's hot."  
  
~~~~~  
Anya crept through the halls of the mansion, absolutely certain now that she was fully invisible. She'd past several mirrors and many minions, none of which showed any indication that she was naked and trespassing. This was good, she came to realize. Luke had never been fascinated by politeness. A naked demon on which he had a centuries old crush would be a little too tempting for this particular hell god. Anya contemplated finding clothes, but figured that a cloak passing through hallways with no body attached might draw more attention that her current state of nude invisibility.  
  
The voices in her head had cut off as soon as she entered the mansion. Willow had been helpful in guiding her there. She had remembered some landmarks from her trip. But the place had some sort of psychic scrambler and as soon as Anya had walked through the door, the voices shut off like a radio that had lost power. She was missing the chatter now. Missing the familiar sounds of the lovers and the brat kid sis, and even Xander's wife. She kinda liked Takina. Not that she'd ever admit that out loud.  
  
New voices caught her attention. She was on the top floor of the mansion now, and huge red doors stretched out at the end of the hall. Luke's room. She'd been there once after a kegger and had only escaped the romantic clutches of the hell god because D'Hoffryn had called her for an emergency evisceration. No champagne glass hot tubs full of bubbly blood for her that night. Such a shame.  
  
Anya crept closer, pressing her ear to the door. There was another voice. One she knew but she didn't. The part of her that was demon, that was still infected by that which made her able to do evil, recognized the sound. It was Draconius. The Old One. And Luke. He sounded like most incredibly handsome and well dressed men. Dumb.  
  
She slid on invisible knees to the floor and put her eye up to the keyhole, confirming her suspicions. The Old One held some sort of small TV monitor up before him, and Luke gazed over his shoulder. They were talking. A lot. About important things. It was times like this Anya wished she'd asked for some invisible paraphernalia to go on the trip with her. Like an invisible miracle ear. Or invisible x-ray vision, or at least an invisible pad and paper. But alas, she was on her own. Anya closed her eyes and listened, trying to remember every word spoken as if her life depended on it.  
  
In a way, it did. All of their lives did.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Spike walked, his arm tucked around her. They were dressed now, but the blanket was still wrapped around her as if she was warding off the cold. She was, really. Just not the cold of the night air. The chill within.  
  
Buffy was silent, clinging against him, battling with what was inside of her. The violent, yet incredibly pleasant encounter with Spike had brought her back. Beaten it down. But she could feel it was only temporary. The beast under her skin was merely waiting for the next chance to bubble and make her do things that she couldn't ever fathom doing.  
  
Make her. This thing lived inside Spike every day and it never made him do anything. She was weak.  
  
"I've had a century and a bit to learn to control it," Spike said, audibly answering what he'd learned in her mind.  
  
"So, you used to be this. pathetic?" Buffy asked, her arms wrapped around his waist, not wanting to pull away from his warmth. His love.  
  
"Not pathetic, Love. That's what the Vampire does. The demon inside. Wants blood. Wants violence. Wants pleasure and pain and not a whole bloody hell of a lot else," Spike answered, snuggling her deeper into his jacket.  
  
"You did," Buffy commented quietly.  
  
"Did what, Pet?"  
  
"Wanted more. Even before we." Her words trailed off as she walked down the sidewalk, avoiding the haze of the street lights. She was afraid it might illuminate her for what she was becoming.  
  
Spike sighed, cradling her to him. "*I* did, Pet. Not it."  
  
Her eyes flickered up to his, blinking curiously. "I thought you were it."  
  
He shook his head. "No. S'not like that. I mean, I guess it is for some. There isn't much there when they start, so the demon is all they have. But I. I wanted things when I was alive. And when the demon took me, I still wanted them. Just took me a while to remember is all."  
  
"You couldn't have wanted *me* back then," she commented, pleased by the distraction.  
  
"You were exactly what I wanted," Spike corrected, his strides shortened to match hers. Her hip brushed against his. "Just didn't have a name yet. Demon wanted to take that away. I wouldn't let it."  
  
"Not sure I get it," Buffy asked, her eyes trained up to his now. She wanted to know. He didn't talk much about when he was alive. before.  
  
Spike sighed. He didn't like to talk about William. Well, his first go round. Wanker. Pansy. Not strong enough to stand up to the gits in his social circle. Not man enough to protect his mum and sis. Not smart enough to make it as a scholar. Not strong enough to make it as a labourer. But he had one thing. One thing more than anyone else.  
  
"Love," Spike finally sighed. "I wanted love. To give it. To receive it. To be one with it. To roll in it like a sodding maxi pad ad. I wanted puppies and kittens and hearts exploding with joy and rapture and sod all else. Demon put that lot in perspective, it did. No more strolling down the beach on a sunny afternoon with the wind in my love's hair. Least not for a century or so. No more brilliant innocence. But I still wanted love."  
  
Buffy was silent for a long moment, and then she giggled. "Maxi pad ads?"  
  
Spike snorted. "Living in a house full of birds and watching enough Passions will do that to a man. Forcing us to watch all those girlie commercials. Think the world might revolve around feminine hygiene, nappies and Dr Phil if you watch the telly tween the hours of noon and four."  
  
"Maxi pad ad?" Buffy repeated, giggling.  
  
"You know. Walking down the beach in the summer sun and love's abounding, just because your girl has Always with wings?"  
  
To that, Buffy had to guffaw. Tears rolled down her face, her eyes squeezing shut. Her knees gave way and she ended up falling in a heap on the curve, laughter bubbling from her throat, quelling the beast like nothing else he could have said or done.  
  
Knew he could do it. Tame it for her while she couldn't. It had been worth the momentary embarrassment.  
  
Not to mention, to hear her laugh and to have her joy pump in his veins was intoxicating. Beautiful. Perfect.  
  
He hadn't lied about the love thing. Just about the maxi pad ad. Well, kind of.  
  
"You all right, Pet?" Spike chortled, settling on the curb next to her. Her eyes still streamed tears and her giggles were second only to the joyous tremble of her form.  
  
"You're kidding, right?" Buffy sputtered, trying to control her breath enough to speak.  
  
"Bout what, Pet?" Spike answered, wrapping his arm around her vibrating shoulder.  
  
"The William bit?"  
  
"About Love?"  
  
"Yeah," Buffy giggled, through the tears.  
  
Spike sighed. "Alas, that part is the painful truth," he answered. "Love is what taught me to control the demon. The search for it, the practice of it, the feeling. That's what it was about for me."  
  
She looked at him, her giggles stopping, her eyes wet and happy. "Really?"  
  
He nodded, his head tilting. "How I made it to you."  
  
A small smile broke on her face. "So, all those years of overcoming this *thing* that wanted to control you was because you wanted to love someone?"  
  
"And be loved," Spike answered, his eyes dropping to his knees. He hadn't planned on an encounter session, but if it bought him a few more minutes with his girl, he'd embarrass himself publicly for a millennia.  
  
Slowly, Buffy toppled to the side, leaning her head into his shoulder. "You find it yet?"  
  
Spike kissed the crown of her head, pulling her in tighter. " That I did, Love. Not letting it go, either."  
  
"Good," Buffy sighed.  
  
"We should head back. See if the rest of the lot has found anything else, all right?"  
  
"Yeah," Buffy answered, pushing herself up and extending a hand back down to him. He took hers gently, feeling her touch. Her warmth. Terrified that it would go away. He clung to it, savouring it like any touch of hers might be the last. For a moment, her eyes locked in his. Buffy's eyes.  
  
Love can defeat it. He could hear it echoing in her head.  
  
Believe.  
  
Finally he stood, wrapping an arm around her and beginning back to the house. "Oh, one thing," Buffy giggled.  
  
"What's that, Love?"  
  
"You are henceforth banned from daytime TV. Dawn will have to tape Passions for you without commercials."  
  
Spike smiled. "Just when I was getting fond of that bloke Dr Phil."  
  
To be contd.- 


	21. My Sister's Keeper

Good evening, One and All,  
  
Wow, a three fer week! I really am amazed. Considering we have spent what seems to be a calendar year digging out and still haven't managed to do so, I really am surprised I had the time to get this out tonight.  
  
Anyway, the angst is coming back. So, hang onto your hats. But know that I will leave you in a place that I hope you like.  
  
Many thanks for all of your support.  
  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
Title: My Sister's Keeper. (Chapter Twenty-One of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at .  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Anya returns from La Maison Rouge and tells the others what she found. Spike and Buffy return from patrol, but Buffy has changed. What she does next scares both her lover and her watcher.  
My Sister's Keeper  
Anya came back to the fold in a rush of air and a small gasp. The look in her eyes was wild and somehow satisfied, as if she had seen a ghost, but one that had done her some good.  
  
"So.how'd it go?" Willow asked from her position lying back on her elbows on the floor. Bringing her back through to exactly the same spot had proven a little more energy consuming than the Witch would have liked. But the feeling of success overpowered her fatigue.  
  
Anya sighed. "Giles is going to want to know."  
  
"Know...know what?" Tara asked, steadying Willow and bringing her back to sitting position.  
  
"Did you find the answer to what's going on with Buffy?" Dawn asked, still holding her wrist in her hand. It wasn't really bleeding anymore. Just a thin crimson line on her forearm that would heal without a scar. Still, she hadn't been able to leave the circle once the spell started to tend to it.  
  
Anya sighed again. "The point *is*, if I have to tell this whole boring story, why don't we go up there and talk? That way I only have to tell it once and I can take my man and go home."  
  
"Right," Takina sighed, shrugging. 'Well, it does make some sense."  
  
"We should patch up your arm too, Dawnie," Willow commented, pushing herself up on her knees and then to the balls of her feet. "Before Spike decides to pummel us into oblivion for injuring his precious Niblet." Willow batted her eyes with the blatant poking of fun at the Vampire. Dawn just smirked.  
  
"Can we go?" Anya asked.  
  
"Sure," Tara answered, smiling slyly. "But you might want to put some clothes on first."  
  
~~~~~  
Giles sat still watching his beloved cradle their baby in her arms. It made the corners of his mouth twitch with amusement that she could be so blunt and seemingly so cold while holding her flesh and blood with such incredible tenderness. Anya was a world of dichotomies. A blessed union of polar opposites that kept him on his toes and made him sigh with relief and joy.  
  
"So, anyway, it's them and they're up to no good," the demon concluded, shifting Randy in her lap and leaning back against the couch. "Can we go home now, Rupie?"  
  
Giles sighed, watching the others watch him. They always looked to him for answers. Sometimes, he wished they didn't. But they always would. "Alas, dear, we still have work to do. We need to be certain that what you saw was not some sort of ruse."  
  
"How could it be a ruse, Rupert?" Anya snapped indignantly. "I was naked and invisible and they couldn't know I was there because the spell protected me from disturbing their dimensional walls. Who would they think they were fooling?"  
  
"You were naked?" Xander asked, fixating on what his brain could metabolize at four AM.  
  
Takina elbowed him, huffing softly. She knew better than to be truly jealous. Xander was her one. Loyal and faithful and loving. But she had to put on a show, none the less. He winced and smiled over at her. "Well, she said it."  
  
"Not to you," Takina corrected, returning the smile. "Where's River?"  
  
"Where else?" Xander sighed, letting his eyes roll towards the ceiling.  
  
Takina had to chuckle. "You broke down and put her to bed with Will?"  
  
"Can I tell you that I *hate* that that Vampire's little blonde replica has got his fangs in our girl already?" Xander huffed crossing his arms. Takina glared at him with amusement. He softened. He always did. "But Oz was taking Emma and Will up to their beds and River just looked at me with these huge brown eyes that look like yours and they were all wet and."  
  
"Face it, man, you're whipped by a two year old," Oz commented, smiling up from the floor at Xander.  
  
Xander sighed deeply. "Yeah, yeah."  
  
"Back to the point," Giles commented, pulling off his glasses and wiping his tired eyes. "Anya, you are sure it was Draconius there with Luke?"  
  
Anya shot him a glare that warned him never to question her again. It made him shudder. "Yes," she hissed. "Heard him, saw him. Told the story."  
  
"I am just being sure that we do nothing wrong. This is the strength of the One, and possibly the life of the Peacemaker at stake. Emma's life," Giles stressed, knowing that Anya would melt at the thought of the little girl in danger.  
  
She did.  
  
"All right," Anya conceded. "But yes, I am sure it was him."  
  
"And you say he had a TV?" Oz asked, his brow quirked in an expression of amusement.  
  
"It was a monitor. Like one of those Watchmen or PDA's that you see in pop up ads. You know." Anya replied, gesturing the general size of the equipment, while still holding Randy to her chest. "But I couldn't see what he was watching. From their conversation, they have something rigged up to watch their pawn."  
  
"Their pawn?" Dawn asked, still holding her wrist. The first aid supplies sat in front of her, but she didn't seem to be in a hurry to clean up the wound. It didn't really hurt. And the air felt good.  
  
"The person or object that they use to enact their will in this dimension," Willow explained, sitting down on the floor next to Oz. Tara sat casually on the other side, passing out sodas to those who wanted a pick me up.  
  
Dawn nodded. "But you couldn't see the pawn?"  
  
"No," Anya answered, ruefully. "But it was close. They were describing people here."  
  
"How?" Takina asked.  
  
Anya shrugged. "Seemed like it'd been here at some point."  
  
Giles nodded. "Well, then we need to be sure to have someone on watch at all times. Willow, could you formulate a spell."  
  
"Like a magical burglar alarm?" She chirped, smiling. "Sure, but you'll have to give me a few hours of shut eye first. I'm wiped from all that anchorage."  
  
"Of course," Giles answered, nodding. "It may be best if you two stay here," he commented, looking at the girls. "With Draconius in the mix, some magical protection may be best."  
  
"Sure," Tara whispered, smiling.  
  
"I can stay too," Oz contributed. "You know.wolf. Keen sense of smell?"  
  
"Right," Giles agreed nodding. "But I suggest that Xander, you take your family home. You as well, Anya. I will join you shortly, after I've talked to Spike and Buffy. Cyrus, would you like to stay with us a few days?"  
  
The other Watcher was confused as to why Giles would ask, but the look on Giles' face said not to argue. Cyrus nodded his agreement. "Anya, is there anything else about the spell?"  
  
"Just that it will cross their beings. You know, make Buffy take on Vampire characteristics, and Spike, Slayer. Oh, and that the spell will break automatically when the pawn returns to Draconius with Emma and Buffy and Spike will return to normal."  
  
"But without their daughter," Takina said very quietly. "Nothing will be normal then."  
  
Xander nodded. "Isn't there any other way to break the spell?"  
  
Anya thought for a moment and then a light bulb went over her head. "Break the amulet."  
  
"What amulet, dear?" Giles asked, leaning forward, his elbows to his knees.  
  
Anya fidgeted, her hands fluttering before her. "The pawn wears an amulet. If it's broken, then the spell is broken. Something about the Hibachi Texts or something. "  
  
"Horasci," Giles corrected, losing himself in thought. "Of course."  
  
"That sounds easy enough," Willow commented, trying to smile. "I.I mean, the pawn person is nearby if it could describe us. We watch out for it, find it, break the amulet and voila, normal non fangy Buffy and . well, Spike."  
  
"Sounds like a plan," Oz agreed, stretching out, one arm tentatively going around each of the girls. Tara smiled at the gesture. Willow squirmed.  
  
"Except," Anya continued, squinching her nose. "Something about the soul of the pawn then belonging to Luke and Draconius and for some reason, we wouldn't want that. Or Buffy and Spike."  
  
"Why?" Dawn asked, shifting her legs underneath of her on the couch.  
  
"I dunno," Anya answered, honestly. "The pawn was apparently stolen, or bribed, or something, from heaven. So, only thing I could guess is that Buffy's morality gear wouldn't want to damn a heavenly creature to Luke's dimension."  
  
Giles rubbed his chin with one hand, lost in thought. "Or.or it's someone that means something to one or both of them."  
  
The door swung open unceremoniously and Buffy blinked at the bright light in the house. "Hey?" She muttered, standing still in the doorway, blanket still wrapped around her like a refugee or a wayward child.  
  
Willow quirked a brow. "You okay?"  
  
Buffy looked up at Spike who had moved protectively behind her, his hands on both of her arms. "Yeah. Just tired. And kinda hungry."  
  
"We got all sorts of info tonight on the baddies," Willow chirped, smiling at the pair of them.  
  
"Love a fill in, Red, but I think the Slayer needs some shut eye," Spike commented, the hairs on the back of his neck on end. He could feel the beast swirling underneath of her skin like a snake, waiting to strike.  
  
"I can sit for a minute," Buffy answered, craning her head around to look at those beautiful blue eyes.  
  
Spike watched her closely, blue battling green. It wasn't a good idea, but he knew that she didn't want her friends to look upon her as the enemy. To be more worried than they were. "Right then. I'll go check on the tots and then fix you something to eat. Promise then you'll go up for a rest?"  
  
Buffy smiled, pushing herself on tip toes and letting her lips brush his. "Promise."  
  
"Right," Spike commented, pushing himself away from her. "Take it easy. Had a rough night," he whispered, letting his lips graze her ear. She nodded, her silky hair tickling his nose. He pulled further from her, watching her all the while and then turned to go up the stairs.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Buffy yawned, listening to the tale of Anya's naked hijinx in hell. It actually wasn't a bad story, but the sun was coming and it was making her sleepy. Like some god-awful alarm clock. Spike had come back down the stairs and was rattling around the kitchen when he felt something about her, about them, change.  
  
Slowly, Spike crept to the edge of the doorway and looked out into the living room without any of the occupants noticing. Buffy had moved up on the couch, curled in a ball next to Dawn. She was sniffing almost involuntarily. Scenting the air. Spike's eyes scanned the room, his sense of smell gone with his demon. He eyed a pile of slightly bloodied gauze pads on the table in front of Dawn and scanned up from there. Dawn had a long slice down the inside of her arm, air-drying and still red with blood.  
  
Buffy's blood, from what history told them.  
  
Slayer blood.  
  
Buffy was craning closer to her sister without even noticing and it was all Spike could do to get into the room in time without creating a scene. He could feel it in Buffy's head, boiling in her veins. She wanted a taste. She wanted to drink the blood, lick the wounds. The demon inside of her was drawing her to the cut in her sister's arm and Buffy didn't even know what was happening.  
  
"All right, Love," Spike answered, holding onto a mug and looking down at Buffy. She jerked to attention as if startled from a dream. Spike held out his hand.  
  
"I'm okay, really," Buffy commented, still grabbing his hand and letting him pull her up.  
  
"Know that, Pet," Spike answered, wrapping an arm around her. "But you need your strength to fight this off, right? Need to rest."  
  
Giles furrowed his brow, watching Spike nervously tend to his mate. Something was wrong. The Watcher's eyes scanned the couch where Buffy had been, his mind racing in his head. Then he saw it.  
  
Blood.  
  
Buffy was to the point of wanting human blood. Or Spike's demon was. He was strong enough to control it. She was not.  
  
"I agree, Buffy. The more rest you get, the better. You'll need your strength," Giles commented. Spike sighed, his shoulder's dropping in relief. "Dawn?" The Watcher continued, "Why don't you stay downstairs will the rest of them. I am sure that they could use a bit of help with guard duty and the spell. "  
  
Dawn smiled at the thought of being useful. "Sure. It'll be like a slumber party."  
  
Giles shifted his gaze to Spike. 'How is everything.upstairs?"  
  
It took Spike a moment to process what Rupert was asking. "I think they're fine. Harris might want to take his tot home with him, much as that will break little Will's heart, but the sun's almost up. No need to disturb the other two."  
  
"All right," Giles answered, nodding.  
  
Buffy yawned, sniffing the air again. "I'm so tired."  
  
"I know," Spike whispered into her hair. "Let's get you something to eat and put you to bed."  
  
Willow's face was wracked with concern. "Is.is everything okay?"  
  
Spike looked at her for a moment, his eyes pleading with her not to make him talk about this with Buffy around. She got the message, nodding. "Need anything?"  
  
"Just some rest, Red," Spike answered, leading Buffy towards the stairs. "Check in on the tots in the morning?"  
  
"Sure," Tara answered, smiling. "Sleep in."  
  
Spike looked down at his pretty little Slayer, her eyes flickering from green to yellow beside him. His stomach rolled, knowing that she had to eat soon. Knowing that he'd have to help her. Have to explain it all. Everything that happened. "Might do that."  
  
"Call me in the morning, if you need anything," Giles commented standing up. Spike was already leading Buffy up the stairs, mug in his left hand, and Buffy's hand in his right.  
  
Spike simply nodded, disappearing up the stairs.  
  
To be contd. 


	22. The End of the Innocence

Good evening, All,  
  
Well, here is chapter twenty-two, and it's actually on time. Due to my schedule, this is probably a two chapter week (the second one coming out this weekend), however, maybe I will surprise myself!  
  
Before you read this, *please* note that this is a *heavy* angst chapter. Possibly the heaviest I have written. It was difficult to write and I tried to be as sensitive as I could in presenting it, however, it's integral to the story. Please understand that before you read on.  
  
Also, please note that this is *not* the end of the story. I will *not* be leaving you in such a dark place. So, *please* hold the hate mail until we get out to the other side. I promise you will be rewarded. I promise you a happy ending.  
  
That being said, I am interested in your take on this. Please give me feedback, keeping in mind that this is only a small part of the whole. Only a very small part.  
  
Again, always a happy ending. Don't fret.  
  
In the meantime, I would break out the chocolate, the tissues and a bottle of tequila.  
  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
Title: The End of the Innocence (Chapter Twenty-Two of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13/R (violence and adult content)  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at .  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Spike tries to quell the rising beast within Buffy, but she can no longer fight it. One act, one sacrifice, may save her. May bring her back from the edge. But will it be enough and will it be in time? *Heavy Angst Warning*  
  
The End of the Innocence  
  
Spike led her carefully into their room, feeling the beast just below the surface. He'd forgotten what it felt like that close to skin. That nauseating, swirling feeling right before it takes control. It had taken years, but he had driven it so deep inside that it only came when he let it. Only swirled to the surface when he fought or when he rutted with his mate. And even then, only when he called on it.  
  
Her eyes were large and lost, fighting it with the goodness inherent in her. Inherent in him. He could feel that light now. Feel it burning him from the inside, spreading through his veins like white fire. Now he understood. Now he knew why it had taken her so long to accept him. Accept her feelings for him. It was against the light. That burning, consuming flame in her veins was in direct opposition to that cold creature that swirled in his. He felt that now. She had learned to temper the light as he had tempered the beast. Allowing them to become One. He had to learn how she did it. He had to teach her how to do it for herself.  
  
"S'alright, Pet. Not leaving you. We'll manage," Spike whispered, gently removing the blanket from her shoulders. "Want a bath before you go to sleep?"  
  
She nodded, hoping it would calm her. Calm *it*. That thing that wanted to take her over. "What...what's in the mug?"  
  
Spike sighed, leading her towards the bathroom. Slowly, he turned on the tap, adding her favourite vanilla bubble bath. It was like a nightly ritual. It settled them both. "Blood, Pet."  
  
She squinched her nose. "I thought you didn't want blood."  
  
He sighed again, not wanting to do this. To explain it. "I don't," he answered crisply. "Had a peanut butter sandwich before I rescued you from the living room."  
  
The sound of peanut butter made her stomach growl and flip at the same time. She was hungry, but not for that. Change the subject, she thought as she began to slowly undress. "Rescue me from what?"  
  
His eyes flickered in the dim light and he lit a candle on the counter. Spike wasn't used to not having perfect night vision. Not with a clear night and crystal moonlight peeking in the window. "Yourself, Love," Spike answered softly.  
  
Buffy blinked. "What.what did I do?"  
  
"Nothing, Pet," he soothed, taking over for her trembling hands and finishing unfastening the buttons on her shirt. "But you were about to."  
  
He could see her eyes glisten with unshed tears in the candle light as he slid the shirt from her shoulders. "What? What was I about to do?"  
  
Spike closed his eyes and breathed. Had to be honest. She had to know how important it was to control it. "Your sis."  
  
"What about Dawn?" Buffy snapped defensively, grabbing his wrist as his hands came away with her tattered bra. Guess he had still had a little demon of his own during their tryst in the crypt.  
  
"Buffy," Spike breathed, working her jeans down her legs. "She had a wound on her arm. Opening a portal for Anya, I'd wager. I'll talk to Red about that tomorrow. You were scenting her."  
  
Buffy blinked, her eyes growing impossibly larger and more afraid. "I was what?"  
  
"Scenting her," Spike explained, turning around and turning off the water. He helped her to the edge of the tub and held her steady as she climbed in. "Looking for a meal."  
  
She looked at him from the deep pool of bubbles, blinking, her heart racing in her chest. "I wanted to. eat my sister?"  
  
Spike had to chuckle, if for no other reason than to release the tension. "No, Pet. But you were attracted to the blood. Craved it. Unfortunately, need it," he continued, lifting the mug back up. "You have to drink it, Pet. "  
  
Her head wagged side to side, the tears being forced out by movement alone. "No, Spike. I. I can't drink blood. I.I won't."  
  
"You have to, Love," Spike whispered, kneeling by the tub. "If you don't, the demon will keep searching for its next meal. I don't fancy it either. Not especially around the lot of you. Knowing you think it makes me less. less of a man." His face was solemn, his own fear just behind his eyes, making them glitter in the pale candle light. He knew that he'd always be seen as different, if not by her than by the rest. Even the other demons that inhabited their circle of friends. He was the only obvious one. The only one that had to consume the essence of life to survive.  
  
Buffy's heart grew heavy in her chest. Understanding *him*. Understanding. "Spike, I don't."  
  
"There was a time when you did," Spike answered, his own eyes filling. He had to be strong. Don't let her down. Don't let her see your weaknesses. Not now. "But I understand, with your blood in my veins, your light, Pet, why. Why you saw it that way."  
  
She looked at his blue eyes swimming up from pooled tears. "You think I'm a monster because of my own blood? My. Slayer?"  
  
Spike shook his head as vehemently as he could with bruises aching at the base of his skull. "No, Love. You're not a monster. But I can see why you thought I was."  
  
"You're not, baby," Buffy whispered, her damp hand brushing his cheek with unending tenderness. He held her hand there a moment, closing his eyes, feeling her. Clinging to her.  
  
"Neither are you, Pet," Spike whispered, lifting the mug to her. "Please," he said, nodding at the contents.  
  
She hesitated a moment, taking the still warm mug from his hands. "I don't know if I can."  
  
Spike nodded, pushing himself to his feet. "I'll leave you alone, Pet. Don't have to do it in front of me. Don't have to let anyone see it. Just have to do it."  
  
Buffy jumped in the tub, fear clenching around her heart like a vice. "Spike, don't go. Please don't leave me. I feel. I feel like I can't.I can't control it when you're not here. I can barely when you are."  
  
Her voice was shaky. Desperate. Her hand shot out to grab his, dropping the mug to the floor, letting it shatter against the tile in a spray of crimson. His eyes shot to her, feeling the beast rising inside of her. Rising. Taking her light. "Pet, no," Spike whispered, pulling off his t- shirt, the tears beginning to drizzle down his cheeks in silver trails. "Please, fight it."  
  
Her body shook and her eyes closed, hands clenching at the sides of the tub. She was breathing slowly, trying to push it down. She was losing. He was losing her. Spike slid out of his jeans, leaving them in a heap on the floor with her clothes and shoes, and climbed in with her. If he could hold her, bind her, do *something* to keep her anchored to him, maybe she wouldn't fade away. Spike knew she could fight any Vampire, any one on the planet, and win. But this one was inside of her. Buffy was lost as to how to fight. How to win. How to survive.  
  
"Buffy?" Spike asked, facing her in the tub, his knees bent, his feet on either side of her hips. She just sat still, eyes shut, breathing. He took her chin in his hand, pulling her closer so her legs slid on top of his. "Buffy, Love?"  
  
Her eyes flickered open and they were golden, glowing back at him like a wild animal, her own green fighting to swim to the surface. She was losing. "Spike?" Buffy whimpered. Her voice. It was her voice with the monster's eyes. It shattered his soul. Their soul.  
  
Her nose twitched in the air.  
  
The blood.  
  
She smelled the blood on the floor. It was bringing the demon out of her. Making her insane for food. For that which kept her, kept them, alive.  
  
"It's all right, Love," Spike whispered, pulling her closer. Human tears dripped from her inhuman eyes and his heart broke, watching her change. Watching her fight. Watching her lose. They never lost. Never. But now.  
  
"I don't know what to do," Buffy sobbed, wrapping her hands around his neck tenderly. Her body was still hers, but it was taking her over, inch by inch. Had to drive it down. Had to make it stop.  
  
"Come to me, Pet," Spike said quietly, fighting his own panic and pulling her until she sat butterfly in his lap, her legs wrapped around his waist, his low around her hips. "Stay with me," he whispered, beginning to rock her, locking them together. Trying to connect them again. Find their balance. She moved against him, her sobs ringing out against the cold tile. He stroked her back as they moved, whispering to her. Trying to calm her. Tethering her to him.  
  
"Spike," she breathed, her wet cheek pressed to his. "Spike, I'm so. I can't.."  
  
"It's all right," he reassured, bringing her face back to his, still rocking her. He stared in her eyes. "You have to drive it down. Have to satisfy it for now."  
  
Her voice trembled, her thighs clenching around his waist. The bath water swayed gently with them, splashing onto the floor. "How?"  
  
His eyes caught hers in a gentle stare and softened, willing her to come back. Willing her emerald eyes to stare back at him in their intimate embrace. But only the beast stared back. "You need to eat."  
  
"I spilled it," she stuttered, her voice all panic and fear. "I spilled the blood."  
  
He cradled her cheeks in his palms, searching her pretty face, not sure she'd ever recover from this even if he did get her back, but he had to try. Had to push it back. Her light. Her blood. It was in him. Maybe if he could give it back. Share it. Maybe he could save her from this horror. "Love," he breathed, drawing her face to the curve of his neck as a mother brings a newborn to her breast.  
  
Her head darted up, staring at him with wild and incredulous eyes. "Spike, I."  
  
"Pet," he whispered, kissing her damp cheeks. He could kiss her face all day and never get all of her tears. "You have to. Drink."  
  
"I. I can't," Buffy whispered, her face contorted in disgust and terror, tears streaming down in icy rivers.  
  
"You must, love," Spike answered. "You have to satisfy it until you learn to control it or until we switch it back. You need to take back some of yourself. You don't, you put them in danger," he whispered, nodding at the door. "You don't satisfy your hunger, how can you know who you will be drawn to next? Your sis again? Emma? Will?"  
  
Her eyes grew wider with horror and her body shook on top of his. "Spike," she whispered desperately, "I can't."  
  
"Shh, Pet," he comforted, drawing her chest flush with his, letting her cool, wet cheek rub against his. "Shh."  
  
He kissed a trail down her cheek, her jaw, her neck, finding the big pulse just below the skin. Slowly, he bit down on her with blunt, human teeth, letting his jaw work as if he were drinking her, feeding.  
  
Her body followed suit. Spike could feel her tears strike his skin just before her lips, both soft and cold and trembling. He held her back, stroked her, forgave her before she found the pulse. Hoped she would forgive herself.  
  
The feel of her mouth clamping down on him made him want to yell for mercy. She hadn't formed true fangs, so it wasn't a neat puncture. She literally ripped, tore, the skin away with her teeth, opening his neck to the air and her mouth. Spike did everything he could to quell the rising scream as he suckled her neck, trying to ease her mind. Prove that she was no different than him. But her mouth tore at him, her body rocking at a frantic pace on his, drinking him, taking him, using him.  
  
Tears slid down his face, tumbling down her back like silver rivers. It wasn't the pain. It was the fear. The fear he'd never have her back. Not now. Still, he loved her. Still, he wanted her with every fiber of his being. Even as the beast took his blood and his body as if they were nothing but a possession. It wasn't her. It wasn't Buffy tearing his throat out and taking his body. It was him. It was his own demon. It was everything that he'd hated and the only part of him that made her truly, deathly afraid.  
  
And now it was in her.  
  
The light slid away from him like a cool, black satin curtain being tossed over his fire. The satin brushed his face and the feeling of her squeezed around his body moving furiously, the feeling of his own blood pumping out of his veins in the same frantic rhythm, moved away. Spike slid under the dark curtain, whispering while he still could.  
  
"Buffy." His voice seemed choked and foreign, as if it hadn't even come from him. "Buffy, you have to stop. Love," he whispered.  
  
And he slid underneath the veil of darkness.  
  
To be contd... 


	23. Firelight

Good evening, One and All,  
  
Well, only a two chapter week, but at least this one is exceptionally long (for one of mine). I wish I could remove the angst warning, but this is pretty much equal to the last in the heart-wrenching department. Please make sure to have a steady supply of tissues, chocolate and tequila on hand to dull the ache.  
  
The good news, the next chapter lets up a little. If these last two have been an angst blizzard, the next is more of just an angst Winter Storm Warning! Can you tell I've been around *way* too much snow?  
  
That being said, here we go. Please let me know what you think. I'm particularly nervous about chapters like these because I want to know you see the point and I'm not just dragging you through the ringer at my whim (no, I am not ME).  
  
The next chapter should be out on Wednesday.  
  
Enjoy.  
  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
Title: Firelight (Chapter Twenty-Three of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at .  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Spike and Buffy deal with the immediate aftermath of his last ditch effort to save her from the demon. But, in his efforts, did he lose himself? Can Buffy come back to him in time?  
  
Firelight  
A red veil, satiny and smooth washed over her. Covering her. Melting into her. She could feel the fire start in her veins again. The warmth. Her glow. Like coming home. It bubbled into her, soothing her, making her feel like.her again. She was warm. So warm. So safe in his arms. Wrapped in his warmth. It was coming back. Her light. It was coming home.  
  
"Buffy." So distant, it almost wasn't even a word. Barely even a breath.  
  
"You have to stop."  
  
But it was so beautiful, this warmth. This blessed reunion with herself in his arms. The veil slid over her eyes, down her throat. Her life.  
  
Coursing down her throat.  
  
"Buffy."  
  
This time it was a choked whisper in her ear.  
  
The veil lifted slowly, sliding across her skin, slowing its furious pace down her throat. Her eyes flickered open and she swallowed, watching the candle flame, her head resting on his shoulder. He had done it. Driven the beast back. Given her back herself. How? How did he know?  
  
It was warm euphoria. Lying in the cooling bath water, one with her lover, the candle filling the room with a hazy glow. She felt herself. Strong. Controlled. "Spike?" She smiled and stretched her arms behind him in feline femininity. "Spike?"  
  
But he was still beneath her.  
  
Her face felt tight and warmer than the water. She lifted her hand, still wrapped around him and touched her face, bringing her fingers up into the light.  
  
Blood.  
  
"Oh God," she whispered to the air. "Spike?"  
  
It took all her strength to pull herself back from where they had fallen, reclined against the back of the tub. She pushed herself up on outstretched arms, her own light in control of the beast for a moment. Her heart raced, blood, her blood, Slayer blood, pumping through her veins like white fire.  
  
"It's always the blood, Pet." She heard his voice echo through her mind.  
  
Buffy pulled herself back and opened her eyes, still sitting astride his thighs. He was there. With her. His face porcelain and perfect, dark lashes closed against alabaster skin. Her eyes scanned down and saw it.  
  
Bright, bright red sliding slowly down his shoulder. Carving a river down his chest and dripping one heavy drop at a time into the water. She followed the trail back up in stunned silence, her hand clapping over her mouth to quell the rising scream.  
  
His throat was torn open as if a wild animal had taken him. Lying open in the pale moonlight and soft candle glow, spilling the contents of him, of her, into the warm, scented water. Her eyes filled with horror, her newly borne blood with terror as she looked at him so still and torn in front of her. So still. So cold.  
  
"Oh God." This time it came out as a squeak. A terrified, raspy breath escaping. "Oh God, Spike, no."  
  
She pulled her hand from over her mouth and saw the blood coating her fingers. Her eyes grew larger.  
  
She had done this. She had done this. She had done this. She had killed him.  
  
"No." Her tears spilled as her trembling hand rose to the untouched side of his neck, pressing her fingers into the smooth white skin. "No."  
  
A faint pulse against her fingers. Faint. Faint. Slow.  
  
"Oh God."  
  
Frantically, she grabbed the washcloth, sponging off the hole in his neck, looking at the bite marks, trying to make it stop. Make it stop. Don't bleed. Don't die.  
  
Her other hand splashed water over her face. Her chest, trying to take the blood away. Trying to make it go away.  
  
"Spike, no. Why? Why? Why did.how.why did you let me.no." A tumble of words and she pressed the cloth to his neck, trying to splash all the blood away and then realizing the tub was full of blood stained bubbles.  
  
Buffy stood, pulling the plug out with one hand and holding the cloth to his neck with the other. He was so still. Still alive. Still alive. Have to fix him. Have to fix this. Have to. Oh God.  
  
She climbed out and slid, her ankle banging into the porcelain toilet base, her knee cracking into the floor. Blood. More blood on the floor. And broken pottery. Oh God. More blood. She turned her head and threw up. More red filled the bowl of the toilet.  
  
Buffy clapped her mouth shut, swallowing. He had given her back herself. Even if it was only temporary. Damned if she was going to let him die while she gave it to the Sunnydale sewer system.  
  
Slowly, she stood again, clutching the side of the tub and hauled him out onto the bathmat, pressing the blood soaked rag to the side of his neck. "What do I do? Spike, what do I do? How do I help you? What do I do?" Her words were frantic. Panicked as her free hand stroked the hair away from his face.  
  
His hair was stained almost pink from blood.  
  
A retching, gasping, sob shook her as her eyes frantically darted, looking for the answer. Call for help? Get him juice like at the blood drives at school? Cram a cookie down his throat? She chuckled nervously, her heart breaking into a million slivers because he lay there dying and she did it. She killed him. She let him go because she couldn't do what he had been doing all along.  
  
Hold down the beast.  
  
And who was evil?  
  
Blood, she thought. Give it back. Give it back. Her hands searched desperately in drawers trying to find something, anything, to cut herself. A knife, scissors, hell, she'd rip her skin with toenail clippers if she could find them. Where? God, help us. Help me.  
  
She couldn't even scream. There were no words.  
  
There was no one here to help.  
  
"Mother?" A soft, rich voice came from the darkened corner of the bathroom. It was a child's voice. But not as young as any in the house. Buffy stopped, raising her trembling face to the sound, her hand clutching the blood soaked rag on her lover's torn throat.  
  
A soft white glow emanated from the corner of the room. Not a form, really. Not a figure. Just a bathing, warm, whiteness. "Mother?"  
  
"Emma?" Buffy's voice shook like dry leaves in the wind. Foreign and metallic and so alien. Was it her? Was it me?  
  
"The fey," the voice said quietly. "Go."  
  
"What?" Buffy stuttered, her voice panicky and shrill. "Emma?"  
  
"Mother," the calm, sweet voice repeated. Buffy could almost hear her smile. "It will be all right. He can be saved. He is your One. Go to the fey. They are where they always will be."  
  
"Please, Emma. Save him," Buffy pleaded, trying to strain towards the voice without leaving Spike's side. Without losing contact. She was afraid if she stopped touching him, Spike would drift away.  
  
The girl stepped into the candlelight, glowing and ethereal, a sad smile on her lips. "Go to the fairies, mum. I will stay with father." Emma, the Peacemaker, walked towards them, crouching on the floor next to her father. Buffy threw a towel over him nervously, as if it were a habit to always have to make sure he was covered around the kids.  
  
But this wasn't a kid. This was the Ancient One.  
  
Peace.  
  
"Go the fey."  
  
~~~~~  
  
Floating.  
  
It was as if he could see her, but he couldn't. Feel her without touching.  
  
The aching, throbbing, searing pain had stopped and he rested, reclined against the cold, cold porcelain, draped in her warmth. Her scent.  
  
My beautiful, golden goddess, he thought, trying to lift his hands to stroke her soft, soft hips.  
  
But his hands were numb.  
  
He tried to move his fingers. His toes. Anything. Nothing. Numb. Inky black oblivion except for her. That silver and gold vision, that form, moving against him.  
  
He heard her scream into her hand. Retch. Start to sob. No, no Buffy. We won. We won. I don't know for how long, but we won. You are not lost. I gave you some of your light back. It's still in me. There's more. So much more. You have an endless supply of fire, Pet. Of good. Do not cry. There's more.  
  
But the words wouldn't come.  
  
He tried to lift his arms to hold her, to comfort her. It's all right, Love. Nothing to be sorry for. You needed me. You needed me to live. You need to live. You need. You live. My golden goddess.  
  
But he couldn't move.  
  
In out. His breaths were so slow. Were they always this slow? In..... Out.  
  
Thump..thump.thump.thump.. I thought that it was sort of more a jig than a slow moving waltz.  
  
Her whimpers and sobs brought him back into himself and he could feel her press against him. Cold and wet and ah, that feels so cold against my neck, Love. So good. Thank you. So tired, now. Will you hold me? Will you hold me while I drift off?  
  
A thump made him jolt, or at least he thought he had. But he hadn't moved. And her bones cracking. No, baby. No. Don't. It'll be all right. Slow. Slow. Let me help you.  
  
But he couldn't move.  
  
The sound of her retching. Of blood hitting water.  
  
Not after this, you don't. Don't give it back to the Sunnydale Sewer System, Pet.  
  
A wave of empathy crashed over him and he could feel her in his head, panicked and afraid and horrified and full of guilt. Of sorrow. Of fear.  
  
No, Love. I made you do this. I asked you to. You're not a monster. Never a monster. My golden goddess, you are. Always.  
  
Another voice and he was instantly calm. Her voice, but not. Emma's. But not. Smooth and rich and vanilla and calm. Take care of your mum, he thought to himself. Make her right.  
  
Then the hand against his neck was gone, but the warming rag was still against him. The lightest touch in his hair. The warm smell of vanilla. The rich, perfect tone of his daughter's voice.  
  
~~~~~  
She ran into the hall and to Emma's room, opening the door as quietly as her panicked hands could manage. Her breaths came in short, ragged spurts, the robe she'd thrown hastily on hanging haphazardly off her shoulders.  
  
It was a blue robe. His.  
  
Emma lay in her bed, but she didn't. The small form of a young girl was there, but Buffy couldn't *feel* her. Like her essence was gone. Just her form. Just a sleeping shell of their baby girl.  
  
A fluttering in the window brought her back from her thoughts.  
  
Three shimmering sentries stood around a vial of sparkling red. Like liquid fire with stars suspended. So small and so bright against the dark of the night. Buffy ran to the sill, cracking open the window to a chorus of muted hums. Soft, gentle, quiet, soothing noises as the little winged beings lifted the vial and put it in her outstretched palm.  
  
"What is it?" Buffy whispered, between awe and terror.  
  
She heard the answer but she didn't. It wasn't a word or a name. Just a soft, gentle, hum. "Firelight."  
  
"Come to me, Pet."  
  
His choked voice in her head made her neck swivel to scan behind her. Only the sleeping form. Buffy's head swung back to the window and all that was left was the vial cradled in her palm. Firelight.  
  
She ran silently on wet, bare feet into the hall and back to the bathroom. He was still lying supine on the floor; glorious in the pale rays of the moon that struck his too white skin. Perfect and marble and deadly and hers. Her predator and her prey. She had preyed on him tonight.  
  
How could he ever forgive her?  
  
How could she forgive herself?  
  
The silvery form of the Peacemaker was almost lost in the moonlight, crouched beside her champion, her hands stroking his marble cheeks. She had bound his neck in gossamer gauze and cleansed the blood from his chest so all that was left was pale perfection against the powder blue bathmat and the silver light of the moon.  
  
"Did you find the answer?" That rich, honeyed voice filled the room and settled over Buffy like a warm blanket on a cold day.  
  
Buffy opened her hand wordlessly, the vial glowing with the light of a thousands stars in her hand. She nodded. "His neck," she choked out.  
  
"He is a Vampire, Mother. He will heal."  
  
"But I . I have.," Buffy sputtered.  
  
The girl smiled, gesturing Buffy to the floor. "Feed him the potion and I will explain."  
  
Again, Buffy nodded, pulling the stopper from the vial with a pop and kneeling by her love's head. He was so still. The tears filled her eyes anew.  
  
Slowly, gently, she lowered the vial to his lips, but they were cold. Pinched closed in his repose. "How?" Buffy muttered, more to herself than to anyone.  
  
The Peacemaker looked at her kindly for a moment, settling Buffy back to peace. How? Baby, please drink, she thought.  
  
"Go to him," the girl said softly. Buffy closed her eyes and searched, holding the vial against his pale, cold lips. Searching into him. Trying to find him. Trying to bring him home.  
  
Door after door clanged open in her mind, swinging into corridor after corridor and she ran through them all, looking for him until she felt so tired. So very tired.  
  
And there he huddled, at the end of the last long hall, back to the wall, naked. Alone. His knees drawn up against his chiseled chest.  
  
Buffy slid to him, skidding on her bruised and battered knees to a halt in front of his feet. "Spike?"  
  
He looked up, blue eyes full of fear and of sorrow. "Don't hate me, Love."  
  
Her eyes grew wide, pooling tears drowning her vision. "No, baby. No. It's me. I."  
  
"I had to save you from it," Spike choked out. "Had to bring you back. Didn't know how."  
  
"Shh," she whispered, her hand stroking his hair softly. "Why? Why did you. Why?"  
  
"Can't lose you to the beast, Love. Not you. Not my golden goddess."  
  
She smiled, pressing her lips softly against his. "I love you, Spike."  
  
"I love you," he answered, his voice as small and shaken as a scared little boy.  
  
"Please forgive me. Forgive me." She broke down, sobbing, her hand covering her mouth as her horror poured out of her in waves. Her grief. Her sadness.  
  
A gentle hand against her cheek brought her back to that crystalline blue gaze. "We do what we have to to keep each other alive, Love," Spike whispered, his thumb tracing her cheek. "I would die for you a thousand times."  
  
Buffy blinked, the tears rolling down her cheeks. "I won't let you," she gasped, her shaking hand rising in front of him. "Drink this and come back to me."  
  
Spike looked at the vial and back at her emerald eyes. "What is it, Pet?"  
  
Buffy smiled, raising the vial to his lips. "Firelight."  
  
"Firelight?" He asked, quirking his brow.  
  
"Emma. The fairies."  
  
Spike smiled softly, his palm still pressed to her cheek. "Helpful little buggers, aren't they?"  
  
Buffy returned it. "Please forgive me," she whispered, bringing the vial to his lips. "Please love me."  
  
His hand wrapped around hers, raising the red glow to his lips. "I will love you always, Pet."  
  
She tipped the vial against his lips. "Everyday," she whispered, pressing her lips to his forehead.  
  
Roses and fire and stars surrounded them, enveloped them as she forced the liquid down his throat, bringing him back to life. Flames ignited his heart. Blood boiled and sang in his veins. He pulled her down to him, warming her in the fire around him, in him, until he felt it explode, consuming both of them in tender warmth and starlight flames.  
  
Her form appeared before them, glowing white against their crimson red. They stood, bodies swirling through, between, around each other in formless majesty.  
  
"It is not permanent," she spoke, her eyes so soft and gentle.  
  
Buffy felt herself glance at him, enveloped in the beautiful rose glow. "Spike?" She breathed.  
  
"No," the Peacemaker answered, her voice rich and quiet. "You, mum."  
  
Spike felt his boneless form tense, swirling protectively around his mate. "No."  
  
The Peacemaker nodded. "You will heal, Father. You will forgive. You must help her. Your cure for her is not permanent."  
  
Buffy shook against his fire. "No. Please, no. Not that."  
  
"The beast shall return. Night after night. Father's blood can only return you to yourself for thirteen hours. Thirteen rotations of the hands of time. And then you shall fight on your own," the Peacemaker continued.  
  
"No," Buffy whispered, shaking her head, tears streaming. "Please don't let this be for nothing."  
  
The Peacemaker smiled. "Nothing is for nothing."  
  
"I will feed her again. I will die before." Spike began.  
  
Her rich voice cut him off. "She must fight herself. She is strong. You will help her. But she must fight this alone." Emma was quiet a moment, staring at the beautiful glow that was her parents. "You will win."  
  
"How?" Buffy breathed. "How can I do this and protect you?"  
  
"Love will quell the beast," the Peacemaker said softly, reaching towards them, touching the soft flames that had become their swirling forms. "Love wins."  
  
"Please, Emma," Buffy pleaded. "Tell me how."  
  
Again she smiled, warm and soft like goose down on a winter's day. "You will win."  
  
With that, she was gone.  
  
To be contd. 


	24. Regrets

Good evening, One and All,  
  
Sigh. It's a two chapter week, I fear, as I sort of spent my extra writing time on a little ficlet for a friend. Still, I am coming to you this evening with a less angsty chapter, so that must be good for something:)  
  
I do hope you enjoy it. I also hope to have the next bit out over the weekend.  
  
Thanks so much for all of your feedback and please keep it coming. It saves my betas from having to give me endless pep talks!  
  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
Title: Regrets (Chapter Twenty-Four of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at .  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Willow, Tara, Dawn and Oz master their plan to find the Pawn. Xander shows up unexpectedly to help. Buffy awakes to realize what she has done and has to deal with the repercussions.  
  
Regrets  
"So, you really think this will work?" Dawn asked, leaning over the cauldron of stinky stuff shimmering away in the basement.  
  
"Dunno, Dawnie. It's hard to say with magic," Willow answered, shrugging. "I mean, I wanted to do a spell where we could reveal the pawn, but with Draconius's mojo, that wouldn't really work."  
  
"He's strong," Tara contributed, winking at Dawn.  
  
Oz sat in the love seat, his feet on a stool, watching. "So, what does this one do then?" He smiled in amusement at the enchanting ladies before him. Willow was so. in command now. So strong. Sure of herself. It made her even more appealing than she had been when they were in high school. He sighed, knowing that this was only a short term thing. Like knowing something you care for would disappear, and trying to make the best of it while it lasted. But, he hoped, at least this way he'd be a permanent part of her, of their, lives. That was something he could be happy about, regardless of what was to come.  
  
"Well," Willow sighed. "It *should* create a trace. Like a vapour trail," she joked, nodding at Oz.  
  
"And I would know about that how?" He mocked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Life on the road," Willow chided in return. "The temptations of stardom."  
  
"Ah, yes," Oz answered, nodding. "My Led Zeppelin phase. I'd almost forgotten about my triple platinum."  
  
"Back to the point," Dawn huffed, crossing her arms. Oz was becoming more like Spike around her friends. Particularly, Willow and Tara. She might need to start taking insulin if she had to watch any more flirty banter.  
  
"Right," Willow said, shifting her gaze back to Dawn. "If we can't expose the pawn, then maybe we can follow it when it moves. See, the spell will make a sort of cosmic trail behind it wherever it goes. Kind of like following breadcrumbs. But sparkly."  
  
"Ooh, did we get a pretty colour?" Tara asked, nudging Willow with her elbow.  
  
Willow sighed, frowning. "Nope. Seems that the Goddess is a silver kinda gal."  
  
"Sparkly though?" Dawn asked, her face hopeful.  
  
"Sparkly, check." Willow answered, smiling. "Which will help. Since silver is kinda hard to pick up during the day."  
  
"Ah, but canine senses," Oz joked, sniffing the air and opening his eyes wide.  
  
"Yes, and a Vampire too," Tara contributed. "Silver is fine, baby." She leaned in to kiss her lover's cheek.  
  
The word. The sweetness of it. The kiss. All of them sent little jolts through Oz, making him both more apprehensive and more excited about their upcoming . meeting. Still, he thought, they'd better make up their mind soon as he'd have to disappear for a few days for the full moon. He didn't think that Tara's new experiences with men needed to involve fur and fangs and blood.  
  
Damn, what *should* they include? Points to ponder, Oz considered, leaning back into the chair.  
  
"So, what do we have to do now?" Dawn asked, watching the bubbling liquid.  
  
"Not much," Willow explained. "Figure out a guard schedule. What good's a sparkly trail if no one's there to see it?"  
  
"We should to it in twos," Tara suggested, smiling softly. "Double the eyes."  
  
"Double the pleasure," Dawn chirped, smiling at her own joke.  
  
Yes, Oz thought, his hand rising to his chin and rubbing in contemplation. He shook his head. Must help Spike and Buffy. Must remove Penthouse forum thoughts from wolfy mind. Must focus.  
  
As if on cue, Xander walked sleepily down the stairs, rubbing his face. "And hello to the Wicca department of Sunnydale's Number One demon fighting machine."  
  
Willow quirked a brow. "I thought you went home?"  
  
"I did," Xander answered, shaking the cobwebs from his head. "But River got fussy and Takina was up and I couldn't sleep so she suggested I come over here and help if I were already moving around."  
  
Oz took one look at the sweatpants and ripped t-shirt on his old friend. "And didn't feel the need to dress first?"  
  
"We live half a block away, Oz," Xander complained. "If I dressed every time I commuted between chez Harris and.. God, don't make me say it."  
  
"They're married, now," Dawn said, prodding Xander.  
  
"Don't remind me. Anyway, if I dressed every time I went from there to here, I'd be. dressed all the time," Xander muttered, rubbing his face again. "Okay, and that made sense how?"  
  
Willow chuckled, surveying the room. "Well, until the rest get here in the morning, we should guard in shifts."  
  
"Morning? Guard? Shifts?" Xander asked, his brain still squirming back to that of the awake Xander Harris.  
  
"We cast a spell on the pawn. It's going to make glittery trails," Dawn squealed, pleased that they not only let her watch, but taught her how to help.  
  
"Ooh, like a slug,"" Xander snarked. "Only glittery. And hopefully prettier."  
  
"So, work in twos? " Tara continued.  
  
"Sounds good," Oz answered.  
  
"Why don't you and Xander go first," Tara began, nodding at Willow, her eyes betraying more than the others could see. It was time. Xander needed to know. "I'll take Dawnie," she continued.  
  
"No," Willow said, her eyes being just as communicative. "I think that you should take Oz. Get to know each other a bit. Dawn can be our inside eyes and ears. Not to mention keep an ear out on the kids."  
  
"Hey," Dawn whined.  
  
"It's raining anyway, Dawnie," Xander said, relieving her from complete aggravation at being left out.  
  
"Oh," the teen sighed. "Can I watch tomorrow?"  
  
"You can follow silvery trails all day long," Willow chirped, patting the girl's back. She stood, taking a deep breath and looking down at Tara. Tara smiled, giving her strength, confidence. They had made the right choice. Xander would understand. It was time.  
  
"Ready?" The redhead asked her oldest friend.  
  
"Ready," Xander answered, grabbing her hand and letting her haul him off the couch. "Let's go watch for glittery slugs in the rain."  
  
~~~~~  
It was cold. Colder than it should have been. And hard. It was hard and cold.  
  
Her eyes swam open to flickering light. A candle.  
  
She blinked.  
  
The room was dark. Where was the bed? Did they.. Not with the kids home. They had learned not to do anything involving breaking furniture or ending up floor bound when Emma had come to the door and wondering if everything was okay. Thank goodness he had locked it.  
  
Buffy propped herself up on her elbows, shaking her head. She felt tired, but strangely alive. Now, that was an odd thought. Hadn't she always been alive? Well, at least recently.  
  
It took a minute to sort it all out in her sleepy brain. Candle. Cold. Tile. Bathroom. Bathmat. Floor.  
  
Spike.  
  
Oh God.  
  
She had to look no further than directly beneath her to find him. He was laid on the bathmat, a towel over his midsection. She was draped over his chest like a T. Like she had fallen asleep kneeling at his side and dropped down over him.  
  
Buffy pushed herself up and it all flooded back. The blood. It had been everywhere. She glanced around the room and not a drop remained. Her hand fluttered to her face and came away clean and soft and scented like vanilla. The blood was gone from his marble figure. His hair was mussed bleached curls and his dark eyelashes lay quietly against pale skin. His chest rose and fell slowly as her hand nervously touched his bound neck, tracing the bandages with gentle fingers.  
  
Her heart sank into her stomach and guilt crashed over her in a fiery wave of torment.  
  
"Spike," she whispered into the air. There was nothing else she could say.  
  
Tears began to fall as she remembered it. Felt it. Knew what she had done. Understood what he had done to survive and what he had sacrificed for her survival. The blood. His life, hers, draining out of him and into her. Coursing through her veins. Taking it from him greedily.  
  
He hadn't done that when he had drunk from her. When they joined. He had sipped her like fine wine into ecstasy. He'd coddled her and cradled her and made her safe.  
  
She had torn his throat out.  
  
Buffy gulped, pulling herself up on shaky feet, the weight of her conscience making it that much harder to stand. She leaned down, using all of their combined strength to lift him up and carry him back into their room. Their bed.  
  
Part of her wanted to run as she laid him out on the ivory sheets, pulling the blanket over his perfect form. Run away. Run hard. Run fast. That way she'd never have to look him in the eye again and admit what she had done. Never have to be reminded of it. Never have to know what he must have felt somewhere, sometime along the way. And she wouldn't have to know that he had known what she thought of it. What she thought of Vampires at one time. What the Slayer in her had thought.  
  
Buffy shuddered, knowing that Spike now knew the disgust that she had once felt. And she had known his horror and his sadness.  
  
How could he ever forgive her?  
  
She turned, heading for the chest of drawers in search of clothes. There was no running forever. Sooner or later, she'd have to face this. But not now. Not now. The first drawer opened with a creak and she heard a moan.  
  
That changes everything. Can't just leave him. "Spike?"  
  
The moonlight was shining through the window, lighting his face in a silvery glow. Blue eyes flickered open and stared at her with love and desperation and need.  
  
Tears pooled, hot and heavy behind her eyes. No. No, Dammit! That's not the look you're supposed to have. Hate. Disgust. Terror. Anger. Stop looking at me with those pretty, loving eyes, she thought.  
  
"Buffy?" His voice was cracked, arid. It sounded so. sad. But the word was full of love. The way he said her name was like a symphony all in two syllables.  
  
She swallowed, moving into the shadows. So he couldn't see. "Yes?" Her voice shook and she was torn between hopping out the window and running to him.  
  
"Water, Pet," he said so quietly that she barely heard him. But it was something. Something fathomable. Something she could handle. Process. Do. A small step towards redemption.  
  
Thoughts tumbled through her mind as she nearly killed herself getting into the sparkling clean bathroom and filling a tumbler full of the coldest water the tap could muster. Buffy ran, trying not to spill the water, and skidded to a halt next to the bed, holding it out for him.  
  
Spike didn't take it. Instead, he moved over, wincing, patting the bed next to him. Gesturing for her to sit. The whole time, looking at her with those eyes. Those enormous blue pools full of nothing but love for her. Nothing but forgiveness. Unending, undying adoration. "Buffy," he repeated softly.  
  
"I.I can't.." Buffy answered, choking back a sob, and pushing the water towards him again. He took it in one shaking hand and drank it all in one long draw. "I. I ."  
  
"Shh," Spike whispered, finding her hand in his and tugging until her shaking form tumbled down next to him. She sat, her legs curled to her chest, rocking slightly. "Buffy, love."  
  
"No." Her voice was wretched, racked with guilt, her body trembling from pretty pink toes to shiny blonde hair. "I. How can you."  
  
"How can I what, Pet?" Spike asked, using all of his spare energy to push himself upright, leaning forward a little to balance over his own bent knees. His arms dangled down like a child.  
  
The words were too small to hear. "Forgive me."  
  
"For what?" Spike asked, his fingers fumbling under blankets until he could find her. He needed to touch her. Flesh to flesh. Needed to feel her.  
  
She looked at him with drowning emerald eyes and hitched. "For.." Her hand reached his neck, her fingers shaking badly.  
  
Spike reached up, cupping her hand under his and pressing it to the wound. "Nothing to forgive, Love," he whispered. "We do what we have to to keep each other alive."  
  
"But I." Buffy stuttered.  
  
His hand raised again, his finger pressing over her lips. "I'm alive, Pet. You're alive. And you're you again, if only for a while." His voice got quiet, remembering the time limit on their trade off. "We've got a chance to suss it out now. Worth every moment to have you here with me while we do."  
  
Buffy's heart broke, knowing that he was telling her the truth. Spending thirteen more hours with her was worth nearly dying. Half a day, and he'd toy with death. Then it hit her.  
  
She would have done the same.  
  
Still, guilt was swallowing her whole. "Spike, I . I didn't realize."  
  
"I know, Love," Spike interrupted, lying back on the bed and tugging her down with him. She laid, her arm draped over his chest, her wet cheek pressed to his shoulder. He stroked her back, letting his fingers tangle in her hair. "I knew you wouldn't know when to stop. But we had to."  
  
"You knew?" Buffy asked, pushing herself up to see his eyes.  
  
He nodded softly in the moonlight. "First feed. Usually someone has to pull you off if you're not meant to kill 'em."  
  
"Then why?" Buffy asked, her hand tracing the bandage again and the tears still streaming in silver rivers.  
  
Spike sighed. "Didn't have time. No one to ask. You needed help. I felt it, Buffy. I felt it consuming you. Couldn't let it have you. Not all of you." His grip became tighter, pulling her flush against him.  
  
She was quiet for a long while, listening to his heart, trying to figure out what to do now. Where to go. "Please," Buffy finally whispered.  
  
"Please what, Pet?" Spike asked, kissing the crown of her head.  
  
"Please forgive me," Buffy whispered into the skin of his chest. "Please love me."  
  
Spike pushed her up until they were eye to eye. His never wavered. They were still full of love. Devotion. Adoration. "Pet, I will *never* stop loving you. Ever. I will never leave you. Never leave the tots. I have nothing to forgive you for 'coz far as I'm concerned, we're One. We both made a choice. We both survived. We both are here. And we will win. So, no regrets. "  
  
"But, Spike?"  
  
"No," he whispered, pressing his lips softly to hers. "Regrets. Please, Buffy. Don't waste our time on something that isn't. We need to take what we have and save you."  
  
Another rolling sob overtook her. "Spike."  
  
"Please," Spike whispered, kissing the tip of her nose. "No regrets. You know that I love you."  
  
She nodded, tears spilling from her eyes to his cheek.  
  
"You know that I will love you always," he said, his hand cupping her cheek.  
  
Again she nodded, her body still trembling in fear.  
  
"No regrets, Love. Love always wins. " He smiled softly as she watched her remember the words from their conversation on the way home, and from Emma. She returned the smile, her fingers tracing his full lips.  
  
"Then we win," Buffy whispered, her voice still shaky, but gaining confidence.  
  
"We always will," Spike answered, drawing her closer. "Always."  
  
To be contd. 


	25. Twenty Years

Good evening, One and All,  
  
Here is chapter twenty-five. I know it is Spuffy free, but there are other stories coming to a head as well. So bear with me and try to love it!  
  
Alas, I am having some massive computer issues, so I may well be late for Wednesday's chapter, however, I will be sure to have a two chapter week for you none the less.  
  
Please enjoy and let me know what you think of my little jaunt into the minds of Willow and Xander.  
  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
Title: Twenty Years (Chapter Twenty- Five of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at .  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Willow finally talks to Xander about her plans with Tara and Oz.  
Twenty Years  
Rain pounded down against slick plastic and waterproof clothes. Thunder rolled every so often, white streaks illuminating the darkened sky. It was beautiful, really. Willow imagined that, were they somewhere. north. of Sunnydale, this might be a blizzard. But here, in the quiet sanctity of their own little world, it was a rolling thunderstorm that looked like it might last for eternity.  
  
A static hiss returned her from her reverie. She dug hastily in her pockets, pulling out a handset. "Yes?"  
  
"Loving of the walkie talkie." Xander's voice seemed distant, as if he were a thousand miles away. But he couldn't have been further than the other side of the house.  
  
"We could have done the mind thing," Willow commented, smiling into the handset.  
  
There was a pause. "Yeah, still not liking that. Don't know where it's coming from. Makes me all schizoid."  
  
Willow sighed. "Fear of progress."  
  
"Fear of voices in my head," the thousand-mile voice answered. There was a long pause before anyone spoke again. "Hey, two hours of walking on one big circle is really not. I'm bored. Think we could just sit for a spell?"  
  
She thought about that for a moment. Sitting meant not watching the entire perimeter. However, the silvery blaze should be enough to see from anywhere within the confines of the front and back yard. What was really bothering her was talking. Sitting lead to talking. Talking lead to truth telling. Truth telling lead to embarrassing confessions of future events. She sighed deeply. Better than embarrassing confessions of the past.  
  
"Yeah," she answered. "Sitting is good. Wet, but good. Meet you on the back porch in like.. 15 seconds?"  
  
"Your umbrella or mine?" Xander joked. The static hissing went dead.  
  
Willow rounded the corner to the back of the house, easing through the gate and stopped, her body shaking with laughter. Xander caught the amusement and shrugged, making Willow laugh harder. "Who'd a thunk that a Vampire has a raincoat?" Xander quipped as they walked towards each other in the driving rain.  
  
She tried to stifle a giggle. "Good point. Better one, it doesn't fit."  
  
Xander shot his arms out of the sleeves, showing the five or so inches of exposed skin at the ends of his arms and feeling the jacket stretched tight across his back. It wouldn't close if he'd had Buffy's Slayer strength pulling the front together. Xander shrugged again, eyes flitting up. "Hood works."  
  
Willow smiled, making the sky a little brighter. "And that is of the good." She shifted, putting her golf umbrella over both of them and walked towards the step. "Ready for wet butt?"  
  
"Check," Xander agreed, lowering himself to the step, Willow mirroring him perfectly.  
  
"So, other than the rain jacket of the undead, did you find anything?" Willow chided, watching him shift uncomfortably in the tight coat.  
  
"I'm just figuring out why he has it," Xander asked, wriggling. "I mean, what does the Big Bad want with a raincoat?"  
  
Again, she laughed. "At least it's black," she joked, nudging Xander's shoulder. She was quiet, the smile still painting her face. "He's not bad anyway. And from the looks of things, he's not all that big. At least in the shoulders," she giggled. "But probably so his Big Bad kids have a good role model with daddy in his slicker."  
  
Xander shuddered. "We have kids," he muttered to himself. "When did all this happen?" His eyes were bright, dancing even, as he directed the question at Willow.  
  
Her eyes softened. "We grew up, Xander," Willow commented. "We . settled."  
  
"We have *kids*," he repeated, staring up at the angry sky. "Wow."  
  
"Wow," she repeated, her eyes traveling with his. She let the sound of the rain settle between them before she spoke again. "Xander, do you like it?"  
  
"Like what?" He answered, turning his head towards his best friend. She lowered her eyes, capturing his. Eyes she had seen in every stage of existence. Eyes she had known for over twenty years. That was weird. She could remember a time where she was positive she would never say she'd known anything for twenty years. Now, she was looking right at it.  
  
"Being a parent. Your life," Willow answered honestly, her eyes flitting between his and the sky.  
  
Xander hesitated. Not because he didn't know the answer. He did. In more ways than he could articulate. But he didn't know the question. There was more. He could feel it in his bones the same way he could feel the lightning setting the hairs on the back of his neck on end. "Yeah, Will. I do. I love it. I love Takina. I love River. I wouldn't change a second." He was silent, watching the clouds plow across the sky. "Not even if River *does* end up attached at the hip to fang boy's son."  
  
Willow had to laugh again. "Well, he's Buffy's son too. That's not all that bad," she comforted, patting Xander's back. "Not to mention, he has a cool name."  
  
Xander quirked an eye. "Will," he muttered, smiling to himself. Amazing how you never notice the simple stuff. "Why do you ask?"  
  
She sighed, but rather than a release of tension, it seemed as if the gesture simply pushed it all into Willow's back. She sat stiffly next to her best friend, her hand still clutched around the umbrella. In the back of her mind, she waited for lightning to strike. Then again, if it did, it did.  
  
"Xander, I need to tell you something," she finally said, turning her face back to his with a deep breath.  
  
He nodded, not sure of what to make of it. Although he had been very good at denial with Spike and Buffy, he'd noticed immediately that something was going on with Willow. Something that most everyone knew about but him. He wanted to be angry with her for that. But he knew this was why. This was what she needed. She was just waiting for the right time. "Go ahead."  
  
Her eyes flitted back to the sky. "I'm jealous," she finally said, her small wet hand wringing on her lap. "You know. First of Buffy. Then of you. I mean, it all sort of fell together in its own. weird and supernatural way."  
  
Xander chuckled. "Well, not much weird or supernatural about Takina and me."  
  
"Except she is a demon," Willow commented, smiling.  
  
"That she is," Xander agreed, returning the gesture. "My demon."  
  
Willow couldn't help but smile more broadly before her thoughts took her back to neutral. She sat quietly, letting the rain set the pace for her heart. A fast, nervous thumping against her skin, as if it might just pop out of her chest and scurry away like a bunny.  
  
"Is something. Are there problems. Is everything okay with Tara?" Xander asked, wondering how long he should wait before breaking the silence. Oh well. He had never been so good at the waiting.  
  
"Oh...oh. yeah. Fine. I mean, wonderful," Willow answered, realizing that the way she'd been approaching things wasn't quite the way to her point. The Scoobies all seemed to have a congenital problem with that. Finding the way to the point. Good thing that we all paired off with blunt creatures with the patience of saints. At least with us.  
  
"Then what is it, Will?" Xander asked, eyes full of concern. He laid his bare wrist against her wet jeans and pulled her leg flush to his. "There's nothing you can't say to me. Nothing we can't talk about."  
  
Willow took a deep breath, feeling the electricity in the air pour down her throat like magic. "This is hard." she began. This time, Xander waited out the silence, letting her set the pace. "When I said I was jealous, I meant that I was jealous of the kids. Of Emma, and Will, and River, and Randy. It. I dunno. It gets to me sometimes."  
  
Xander felt his heart sink. He knew that they had been bantering about the idea of adopting and artificial insemination and all sorts of things, but he didn't realize to what extent it had affected her. It made him feel guilty, as the tears slid down her cheeks. He hadn't even noticed. "Will."  
  
"Just let me spit this out," Willow interrupted, a nervous smile breaking on her face in stark contrast to the little rivers of tears that almost blended in with the raindrops. "I know Takina had been giving us options, but. Xander. we really wanted our own. I mean, if we are capable, why shouldn't we?"  
  
He sat dumbfounded, not sure if she wanted an answer or if she just wanted to speak. He decided the latter. At least until she prodded him into commenting. Instead, he nodded.  
  
"So, I guess Spike of all people, figured that out. I don't know why or how. I guess he's just good at . reading people. Something he must have picked up in the whole century plus club." She swallowed, afraid to continue, but the confused look in her friend's face made her push forward. "Anyway, so he. I dunno. he called Oz."  
  
"Spike. called Oz?" Xander asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Why? And Hunh?"  
  
Willow giggled. "Don't ask me," she began, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "I guess that he figured out that we were hesitating because we wanted to have our own baby, but we sorta had the wrong equipment to do it on our own."  
  
"You should have asked," Xander whispered, his voice low. "I would have helped."  
  
That made Willow laugh out loud, almost waking up the house. "Xan, I love you and all, but how were you going to help? I mean, you, family, baby. Wife. Relatively new. Problems abound."  
  
"Takina would have. she would have understood," Xander whispered, his eyes dropping to the ground. Suddenly, it all fell together like one of the lightning bolts that had streaked overhead had struck him in the head, causing synapses to fire and two and two to equal four. "Oz?"  
  
Willow sighed. "Spike apparently thought that we wanted our own kid. You were married off. he. well between possesso-Buffy and the whole sterility with anyone but the Slayer question.. And then Giles.."  
  
Xander shuddered, causing raindrops to fly from the slicker like a dog shaking out his coat. "Okay, now EWWW."  
  
"Exactly," Willow agreed, sharing the shudder. "Spike thought that we'd want someone we knew. That we trusted. I guess he talked to Buffy without really telling her and came up with Oz."  
  
Xander was thoughtful a moment. "Single, cute, small, cuddly Oz who turns into a *wolf* once a month."  
  
"Sort of redefines PMS doesn't it?" Willow joked, but Xander's face was still serious.  
  
"He's a werewolf," Xander repeated. "That's gotta mean something."  
  
Willow raised a brow, looking at Xander as if he'd grown an additional head. "I don't know if you noticed, but, um, Takina is of the demon variety. Anya...Vengeance Demon. Spike. Vampire."  
  
"None of them have to get tied up at the full moon," Xander contributed half-heartedly, knowing he was defeated before he even started.  
  
"Unless you count Spike, but I think Buffy does it only because he likes it," Willow joked, making Xander shudder like a wet dog once again.  
  
"Okay, the kinky sex of my friends is not something I need to know about," Xander commented, as if he and Takina were minions of missionary only. That thought made him shudder all the more.  
  
"Then you're going to *love* this," Willow chided, beginning to relax. The hard part was over. He hadn't walked away. "Tara and I. well. we couldn't decide. and she has *zero* experience with men."  
  
Another lightning bolt struck Xander Harris and his eyes got huge and glassy. "Willow?" He almost gasped.  
  
She blushed, her cheeks nearly as red as her hair. "Well, I don't want anyone touching my baby without me there to referee."  
  
"Both of you?" Xander asked, torn between disgust and utter jealousy.  
  
Willow nodded. "It doubles our chances and hopefully means we'll only have to do it once."  
  
"I'm betting on Oz slipping some birth control pills in your carrot juice to prevent that," Xander joked, shaking his head. "Willow.I."  
  
She sighed, letting her hand drop over his bare wrist. "He was right you know. About it all. In that annoying, Vampire sort of way."  
  
"Spike?" Xander questioned.  
  
Willow nodded, letting her head fall on Xander's shoulder. "We want this. We want our own baby. We want someone we know to be good, kind. to be the father. And Oz. he is all of those things and you know that."  
  
She could feel him nod from her perch against his shoulder. "You could have gone for some height. You know. No potential basketball players coming out of this match."  
  
"True," Willow chuckled, moving in closer. "But magically adept musicians aren't bad."  
  
"No," Xander answered, lifting her chin with a gentle hand. "They aren't."  
  
The tears began to well up behind Willow's eyes again, but this time, they were tears of relief. "So. you .. you understand?'  
  
"Yeah," he answered, holding her gaze in his. "I get it." He was quiet this time, the rain still pounding overhead and bouncing off the wood all around him. "I just want you to be happy, Willow. That's all I have ever wanted from you. I'm sorry that I didn't see it sooner." The fact that Spike did was crawling under his skin. He wasn't sure whether or not to pummel the Vampire or to thank him for bailing out his best friend.  
  
"It's okay," Willow answered, returning her gaze to the sky. "You know, if it had been different."  
  
"If what had?" Xander asked, looking at a beautiful, almost pink trail through the clouds.  
  
"Things. Life," she answered, following the same pink streak. "If everything had been different, I would have wished it had been you."  
  
Xander was silent, turning towards Willow, watching her turn towards him. There was something deeper than love there. Something stronger and wilder and older than anything either of them would ever find outside of each other. A different love. Not one of marriage and babies and happily ever after. But one of peace and reliability and constancy. One that would never go away.  
  
He nodded, swallowing, his eyes filling with tears of their own. "Really?"  
  
"Yeah," she answered, swallowing a sob. "I can't think of a kinder, better man, Xander. I can't think of anyone I would have rather . that Tara and I."  
  
He smiled nodding once again, wiping a tear from her cheek. It was too much. Too much to say. "But would I have gotten both of you at once?" He joked through the tears, winking.  
  
Willow batted his arm playfully, knowing how he really felt. "Don't know if you're up for the task, Xander. All old and married."  
  
He humph'd, batting her back and settling her into his shoulder. "Not sure if I should take the boy out and have a little party for him, or send him off to nap until the big night," Xander commented, sitting comfortably with Will under his arm.  
  
"Let him sleep," Willow answered. Xander shot her an evil eye. "I mean. b.because he needs to do it right the first time, right? Not because he'll need any extra energy for anything."  
  
Xander shuddered, this time half-heartedly. "Okay, what was I saying about the kinky sex lives of my friends?"  
  
She giggled, snuggling against the undersized raincoat. "I love you, Xander."  
  
Xander smiled, kissing the top of her wet head. "I love you too, Will. And I'm happy for you."  
  
"Really?" She asked, pulling away enough to look at his face.  
  
Again, he smiled, "Really."  
  
To be contd. 


	26. Pipe Dreams

Good evening, One and All,  
  
Okay, so still no Spuffy, but lots of Spike! Next chapter will be chock full of Spike and Buffy. On the bright side, looks like you'll have a three chapter week, as I expect to present another on Sunday. ::: crossing fingers::::  
  
Hope you enjoy this little foray into the dynamics of the Spike/Giles relationship. Hang on, more Spike/Buff lovin' to come.  
  
Thanks for all the feedback and please let me know what you think of this chapter.  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
Title: Pipe Dreams (Chapter Twenty-Six of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at .  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Giles and Spike have a back porch discussion on what is happening and what's to come.  
  
Pipe Dreams  
  
He awoke slowly. Painfully. His entire body achy and tired. Still, he knew he had to rise. Knew there was something he had to do before she came back to herself. Hopefully.  
  
She was curled against him, sleeping quietly, her eyelashes curled against golden skin looking so innocent and so sweet. It was a stark contrast to the night before. In the dim room, she looked like a slightly larger version of Emma. His golden goddess. His world.  
  
Spike disentangled himself from her sleeping form, sliding off the bed and grabbing the phone in one, quick, almost silent movement. He pulled on his jeans and walked to the bathroom on bare feet, running his hands through his hair and feeling every muscle in his body scream in protest. Before she rolled again in her sleep, burrowing into his vacated warm spot, he was shutting himself in the bathroom and making the call.  
  
"Magic Box!" A too chipper, female voice answered. His head groaned at the sound.  
  
"Anya, I need to speak to Rupert," Spike said gruffly, his voice more gravely for the damage inflicted the night before.  
  
There was a pause. "Are you okay? I mean, Rupie told me that."  
  
"Now, Anya," Spike growled with uncharacteristic annoyance. "Please," he amended before she could be completely put off. He'd apologize properly later.  
  
"Sure," she muttered, the phone brushing against the material of her slacks as she lowered it and walked into the back. "Rupert?" She held the phone out silently, and spun on a heel when her lover took it with a curious look and a shrug.  
  
"Hello?" The older man's voice was full of concern, knowing what the call was about even prior to receiving it. Years of being a Watcher. The premonitions became contagious.  
  
"It's time," Spike whispered. "Tonight."  
  
There was silence on the other end. "Where is she?"  
  
"Asleep," Spike answered, his voice barely audible. He didn't want to take the chance that her hearing had become more advanced to go with the rest of her newly acquired traits.  
  
"What. what happened?"  
  
"Not here, Rupert," Spike whispered. "Come to the house."  
  
Spike could almost hear the Watcher nod. "Right then. Is she.?"  
  
"She's herself at the moment. But I can't take chances with them." Spike's voice wavered at the last few words, tears running to his eyes. "Please tell me I'm right to do this."  
  
"You are," Giles agreed. "You can't take chances with them. Peacemaker or no, prophesy or no, they are your children, Spike. Buffy's children. If you think that she is a danger to them, she would want you to."  
  
"Please," Spike pleaded. "Come."  
  
"Right then," Giles answered, pausing to rub his glasses on his shirttail. "I'll be there in an hour. Shall I be ready then to...?"  
  
"No," Spike answered, his voice filling with tears. "Tonight. When we leave for patrol. Then. For now, just help us suss this out, Rupert. Please. I need her."  
  
"I'll be there shortly," Giles answered, his tone confident. "And we will get her back."  
  
~~~~~  
Spike sat on the porch, a plume of smoke escaping out of the corner of his mouth as he exhaled. The cigarette didn't taste quite as good as he had remembered, but there was something comforting about the motion. About bringing it to his lips and taking a deep breath, and then pulling it down again as he blew the trail of smoke over bruised and parched lips.  
  
Tara had taken the kids out to breakfast. He'd asked her to bring them back in a few hours and to please lay low for the rest of the day. The Witches had to stay to watch the spell, but Spike thought it only fair that Buffy had some time with the little ones while she still. while she knew what it was to be their mum.  
  
The back door opened and closed with a click and solid, sturdy footsteps crossed the wooden deck to the stairway. Spike didn't turn. He didn't have to to know.  
  
"I haven't seen you do that in quite some time," the familiar voice said as it approached. The voice was comfort. Warmth. The only one who seemed to know the magnitude of what it meant to be both human and in charge of saving the world, even if he'd never done it himself. Spike let the sound wrap around him like a blanket.  
  
"Felt like I needed to," Spike answered, half -heartedly.  
  
"Buffy will be disappointed," Giles answered, sitting down next to Spike on the stairwell, an identical plume of smoke filling the air with the smell of cherry and vanilla. Spike turned his head to the source. Giles sat, his teeth working a pipe as he smoked quietly.  
  
Spike smiled. "Can't say I've ever seen you with a smoke, Watcher."  
  
"It's only recently, since I've been ensconced with Anya," Giles answered, smiling wryly. "Felt like I needed to."  
  
Again, Spike smiled. "How is your bird?"  
  
Giles chuckled. "She's. wonderful and terrifying and perfect and utterly insane," he replied, his face lighting up with joy. "I'm not quite sure what I'd do without her."  
  
"Don't ever try it, Mate," Spike commented, turning his face to the tree line and taking another long drag from the cigarette.  
  
"I plan not to," the Watcher confirmed, leaning his elbows to his knees. They were silent for a long moment before Giles spoke again. "I have to say, Spike, you look like hell."  
  
Spike chuckled, tossing the butt to the ground and reaching out with one long leg to squash it with the heel of his boot. "Felt better."  
  
Giles leaned forward, taking in the battered landscape of the Vampire's face. The white gauze on his neck. "May I?" He asked, reaching for the gauze.  
  
The Vampire put his hands up in a gesture of submission, allowing the Watcher to peel away the tape. The look on Giles' face said it all. He winced as the white bandages were pulled partially away from the wound. "How nasty?"  
  
"It's quite. it's not a Vampire bite," Giles articulated, trying to pull the covering back over the ragged wound.  
  
"B'coz she's not a Vampire," Spike answered, his voice torn between anger and hurt. "She's.Buffy."  
  
Giles nodded, understanding the statement. "She did that unprovoked?"  
  
Spike shook his head vehemently. "No. Got it all wrong. I encouraged her to feed."  
  
A shocked look overtook the Watcher's features. "Spike, for Heaven's sake, *why*?"  
  
Another cigarette found its way from the pocket of his duster into his mouth. Giles leaned over to light it for him. "She needed to feed. The demon. wasn't going to give her any choice."  
  
Giles nodded, trying to accept that. "Why not pig's blood?"  
  
"Tried that," Spike answered, staring off at the trees. "She spilled it. Wasn't time to fetch a new batch."  
  
Again, the Watcher sat, thinking. There was more to it, Spike just wasn't ready to spill. So, he waited. One thing about being a Watcher is that one learns patience. A Waiter would have been just as apropos a title.  
  
Spike sighed. "It's always the blood," he finally began. Giles had to smile, feeling one of Spike's prosaic speeches starting. It reminded him of a time the two of them had not understood each other and thought themselves on opposite sides of the fence. Now they were as good as brothers. Or father and son. United by the one girl that both of them loved.  
  
"Knew that the transfer did something to our insides. I can feel this bloody light burning inside of me. Making my blood.warm. Stupid, sodding, imposing little sense of right and wrong the girl has," Spike continued, fingering the bandages on his neck. Giles nodded, trying not to grin again, and watched the Vampire sigh, shrugging. "Feel it in my veins, her Slayer. Nearly as pushy as my demon. Just a different feel. Foreign, but not. Like I've known it all along, just never had to deal with it before. Like an annoying in-law."  
  
That, Giles had to laugh at. Spike even cracked a smile at the implication. "Know one or two of those, do you?" The Watcher asked.  
  
"My bloody share," Spike agreed, nodding. "Even if they aren't by blood."  
  
"Just the same," Giles confirmed, leaning back so his elbows touched the deck behind them. "So, you thought that if you fed her.."  
  
Spike nodded. "That I could give her back her light," he continued. "Her Slayer."  
  
"Not bad," the Watcher commented, blinking up at the early afternoon sun. "Did it work, may I ask?"  
  
Spike sighed. "Temporarily. Had a few nasty side affects."  
  
"The not artistically pleasing hole in your throat," Giles enumerated.  
  
Spike nodded. "Not to mention that she didn't. she couldn't."  
  
"Stop," Giles finished for him. "Spike, I wish you'd have told me what you had planned to do. I would have been there. I would have..."  
  
"First off, Mate," Spike began, "She'd have had you for supper at that point. Second, there wasn't any time between her spilling the pig's blood and my . donation. And third." The Vampire stopped, thinking about how to say the rest.  
  
"Third?" Giles repeated.  
  
"Yeah, well," Spike shrugged. "Biting is rather. it's erotic. and."  
  
For the second time, Giles winced. "I think you can stop there. I've got the picture. And then a few others I didn't need."  
  
"You asked," Spike said, nonchalantly, taking another drag from the cigarette.  
  
"Yes, yes," the Watcher agreed, his face looking much like that of a man who had sucked on a rancid piece of meat. It made Spike positively giddy. Embarrassing the Watcher had become a pastime between himself and Anya. "Back to the crux of the matter. You said this was temporary?"  
  
Spike's face returned to seriousness, his eyes returning to the tree line. "Yeah." His voice was quiet now, pensive. "While I was out, Buffy came to me. In my mind. Gave me this potion. She got it from the fairies."  
  
"The fey are back?" The Watcher asked, his curiosity piqued.  
  
"Don't think they ever left, Mate," Spike corrected. "They watch Emma."  
  
Giles nodded. "Did she. Was."  
  
"Emma came," Spike continued for him. "Well, the Peacemaker. Have to differentiate, as the girl who comes to us in dreams is not quite Emma. Older. More."  
  
"Ancient," Giles finished. "I understand"  
  
Spike shuddered. "She's so beautiful. Such a good little tot. But it is rather eerie seeing her all grown up in my head every time things get rough, you know? Like the sheep watching after the shepherd."  
  
The Watcher smiled. "That's her duty, just as protecting her is yours."  
  
"And Buffy's," Spike added, looking back at the Watcher. "What are we going to do, Rupert? Blood's only good for thirteen hours. She'll be. she'll be. by sundown."  
  
Giles's eyes filled with compassion. "Spike, I'm quite sure we'll find a way to return her to herself. Just have faith." He paused, thinking a moment. "Did Emma say anything in regards to the imbalance of the One?"  
  
"Love always wins," Spike muttered, tossing yet another cigarette butt onto the concrete and stubbing it out with the heel of his boot. "Wish it was as simple as that, though."  
  
Giles took a draw off the pipe, making the air smell sweet with cherry and vanilla. It reminded Spike of his father. Not the monster Gwydion had become. But Henry Windsor. Devoted husband. Loving father. Friend. "Maybe it is. Has she ever led you astray in the past?"  
  
Spike thought for a moment. "Peacemaker's got a knack for being right."  
  
"Then trust her now. Not to say we won't work on something a bit more concrete in the meantime, but trust in what she told you and let it see you through."  
  
The Vampire took a long look at the Watcher. "You think that'll do Rupert? Loving her is enough?"  
  
"It's a start," Giles responded, earnestly. "More to the point is her loving you. Loving her kids. Loving her life."  
  
Again, Spike fell silent, his eyes falling to his knees. "I'd like to think she does. Like to think I make her happy."  
  
The Watcher burst into laughter at that, nearly dropping his dangling pipe from his lips. Spike looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Didn't realize I'd become comic relief."  
  
Giles tried to stifle another round of chuckles. "That's just. Spike. that's amusing."  
  
"What?" The Vampire asked with indignation.  
  
"You honestly think that if you didn't make Buffy happy, you'd have been spared becoming the filler for an ashtray by now? If not by my hand, then by Dawn's, or better yet, hers?"  
  
Spike smiled. "I'd have thought the whelp would be the first to have a crack at it."  
  
"He's a bit blustery," Giles replied, still chuckling. "Lots of words, but very little to back it up."  
  
"Gotten better on the backing up of late," Spike defended, a shocked look spreading over his features as the question of *why* he was defending Xander Harris crossed his mind.  
  
The Watcher agreed. "Far better. But the fact remains. If any of us thought that you didn't make Buffy happy, if you weren't good for her or those children, one of any number of us would have shuffled you from this . relatively.mortal coil."  
  
Spike nodded. "So, I've passed?"  
  
"Long ago."  
  
"Good to hear," the Vampire replied, turning his head to the sky. "Gotta wake her up soon. She should spend the day with the mites. In case."  
  
Slowly, Giles laid a hand on the Vampire's shoulder, catching his attention. Spike's eyes glittered at the Watcher in the sunlight. "We'll get her back. No doubts."  
  
Spike fingered the bandages as his neck again, nodding reluctantly. "But will she be the same?"  
  
The Watcher furrowed his brow, studying Spike. "I'm not certain."  
  
"Will she remember this?" Spike asked, his hands still on the bandages. "Will she remember what it feels like to be the demon? To feed? Bloodlust?"  
  
"I don't know," Giles answered, dropping his hand back to his lap. "But if she does, we'll help her through."  
  
"Will she forgive herself?" Spike asked, his face so serious it hurt the Watcher just in its depth.  
  
"Can you forgive her, Spike?" The question was honest, although he already knew the answer. If there was one lesson the rest of them could learn from Spike, it was how to forgive.  
  
"That's rot," Spike humphh'd. "Nothing to forgive her for. Did what she had to do. I did what I had to do. Had to bring her back. Not really a criminal offense, that."  
  
"Then you'll just have to help her forgive herself," Giles comforted, patting Spike's shoulder again. "She's strong. Resilient."  
  
"But she is what she despises most," the Vampire admitted, making his heart twinge in his chest. It killed him to realize that she was suffering through her worst thought. "She's her own worst nightmare."  
  
Giles shook his head. "No, Spike. Her worst nightmare is losing you. Her kids. Us. We haven't gone anywhere. As long as we're here, as long as you're here, she'll recover."  
  
The Vampire nodded. "Think I need to wake her. Give her time with the kiddies. Red's in the basement with Oz, working on the spell. Believe Dawn's front porch watching."  
  
"I'll go down with them and see if we can make some headway into the pawn and ways to break the spell. We'll be sure to afford you both some privacy." The Watcher stood, lending a hand down to Spike and helping him to his feet. "You still want me to take them?"  
  
Spike nodded, a tremble starting in the base of his spine. "Yes. Once Buffy and I've left for patrol, have Anya take them somewhere. Not your house. Don't tell me where unless it's dire, all right? She can get in my head and I'm quite sure she'll be right ticked when she realizes they're gone."  
  
The Watcher nodded. "Will you be all right?"  
  
"I'll manage," Spike comforted with what little he had left to offer. "I love her. "  
  
"I know," Giles answered, opening the door. "We'll take care of the little ones."  
  
Spike nodded. "Keep them safe."  
  
To be contd. 


	27. Missing You

Good evening, One and All,  
  
Okay, so I did manage to squeak out another chapter this week. Good thing as next week is looking a bit hectic and two chapter-y. I will do my best for you.  
  
The story is beginning to draw to a close, a final burst of action and angst before the happy ending. So, I decided to go easy on you again and give you a little shot of Spuffy since I've so horribly ignored your needs in the next few chapters. I do hope that this is a pleasant reward.  
  
Thank you for all the kind feedback and please, keep it coming!  
  
Look for the next chapter on Wednesday.  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
Title: Missing You (Chapter Twenty-Seven of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at .  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Spike explains the meaning of Buffy's actions the prior evening. They spend one last day with the kids before the cure wears off and The One's future becomes uncertain.  
Missing You  
Buffy snuggled against the warm body habitually as it stretched on the bed next to her. Burying her face in his chest. Letting her arms tangle through his. Pushing her body as close as she could without becoming one. He smiled, feeling her hair tickle his bare chest. Buffy. The girl that would give him his beginning and his end and every moment in between.  
  
"Got to wake up now, Love," Spike whispered, kissing the crown of her head. She hummed in response, a small smile breaking on her lips and her body scooting impossibly closer. He could feel his own betray him, warming to her touch. This was hardly the time. Spike willed control and managed it. Barely.  
  
"C'mon, Pet. "It was like bending steel to be so close to her, to smell her smell and feel her body so warm next to his and not touch her. Not comfort her. Not be with her. But she needed to see the kids. She needed to be their mum today more than he needed to spend her remaining hours tangled in pooled sweat and joyous pleasure. Spike chuckled at himself. Never thought he could be that altruistic.  
  
"Five more minutes, "she muttered, her small hands roaming his body in her half slumber. "Yummy Vampire."  
  
Spike shook his head and chuckled. Wondered if she was just making her typical remark or if she liked her little taste of him last night. He knew it was the former, but the latter wasn't really a bad thing either in his own little Vampire mind. "No, Pet. Rise and shine."  
  
Green eyes flickered lazily open and pretty coral lips spread in a feline smile. "Do I hafta?"  
  
"Umhmm," Spike hummed, kissing her forehead. "Emma and Will want to see you."  
  
Her face became very serious as she traced circles on his chest. "Are they okay?"  
  
"Fine, Love, why?" Spike answered, smoothing her hair down her back. The memories of the night before came crashing down on her. He felt it like a piano dropping from a skyscraper and falling into her tired mind. "They don't know, Love. They're fine."  
  
Buffy's eyes fluttered up to his throat, her fingers tracing the bandages. "Is it bad?"  
  
"Half way to healed," Spike answered, smiling softly. It was a lie. Slayer healing, which seemed to be his top shelf brand at the moment, was not quite up to speed with its Vampire counterpart. It was healing, but not as fast as it would have before this had happened.  
  
"Really?" Buffy asked, hopeful.  
  
"Be fine, Pet," Spike comforted, pulling Buffy onto his chest, her cheek pressed to his. "Just fine." Softly, his lips pressed against hers. Buffy stiffened at first, fear and guilt closing around her like a vice. But the feather softness of his hands on her back, the sweetness of his lips pressed to hers, the small sounds of comfort sliding from his throat like warm dark chocolate, relaxed her. Spike was still hers. She was still his. This wouldn't change it.  
  
Nothing would.  
  
"You up for 'Meet the Kiddies'? Think they'd like to spend a little time with their mum," Spike whispered, his lips brushing to hers as his mouth formed the words.  
  
"Yeah," Buffy answered, smiling against his skin. "Where are they?"  
  
"Glinda took them for breakfast. Be back shortly. Thought you'd want a little time to."  
  
Buffy pulled her face away enough to look into his eyes. "You promise me that you don't hate me?"  
  
Spike raised an eyebrow, blue pools full of the same look of love and adoration that they always possessed. Never changing. Constant. In battle, in bed, making dinner, changing a diaper, beating the hell out of a demon or slamming them through an abandoned house, those eyes were always the same. Love. "Never could. Never want to. No regrets," Spike answered simply.  
  
Buffy nodded, trying to accept that. Trying to hold back the tears. She leaned forward, placing a small kiss on the bandages over his throat. He closed his eyes and groaned. Quickly, she drew her head away.  
  
"Oh, God, did that hurt?" Buffy asked, mortified, scrambling back.  
  
His hands shot up, grabbing her bare shoulders and pulling her back down to him. "No, Love," Spike answered with a wicked grin. "Shouldn't have done that, though."  
  
Her face was shocked, nervous, guilt ridden, her eyes pooling with tears. "I'm sorry. I'm so."  
  
Before she could complete the sentence, his lips closed over hers again, drinking her in, drowning in her. "You shouldn't have done that," Spike growled, nearly breathless, "because you marked me. You made me yours again, Pet. Claimed me back. Your lips against it."  
  
Her eyes grew wide. "I what?"  
  
Spike blinked, not sure of how much to tell her. "When you bit me, Buffy, we were."  
  
A twinge went through her. A good twinge. She remembered exactly what they had been doing at the time. "Yeah," she whispered, her chin resting against his.  
  
"You love me," he continued, matter of factly. It made her smile. About time he got it through his thick skull.  
  
"Yeah," she confirmed.  
  
"So, even though the words weren't said, the claim was remade," Spike said hesitantly, hoping she would see that for what it was. Beautiful. Meaningful. Important. Maybe she could see the good in the horror that would plague her about last night.  
  
Buffy didn't speak, making his heart pound in his chest. She was going to panic. He could feel it. Her hands slid slowly to his bandage, peeling the gauze from the skin and studying the jagged, healing wound in his neck. Her brow furrowed and she winced as her fingers traced the edges. Spike's heart beat faster, terrified that she would lose it. Seeing the damage would wound her even more. He could feel her mind process the horror of it, the guilt clamping down again. He held her tighter.  
  
"Buffy?" Spike asked, watching her emerald eyes begin to spill silent tears, her fingers as soft as silk against his neck.  
  
She looked at him. Studied his face for a moment, before returning her eyes to the mark. Slowly, reverently, she leaned down and nuzzled the whole skin around it, making his eyes roll back and his body stiffen with lust and love. A small, pink tongue darted out and began to lap the edges of the wound, sealing it, cleaning it, and possessing it. Once she had worked her way over ever inch of skin, she stopped, looking at his darkened eyes for a moment, and then turning her attention back to the wound. Slowly, gingerly, she placed her mouth over it, and then kissed it softly.  
  
"Mine," she murmured against his skin.  
  
His body tightened like a piano wire at her claim, every muscle becoming hard and drawn to her. Spike's glazed eyes grew wide, looking down at her small, perfect face, watching her caress the wound with mouth and fingers, all the while, her soft breath whispering "mine" over and over again into his skin.  
  
"Yours," Spike repeated, his voice almost too breathy to hear over the emotion. She had done it. She had let herself succumb, willingly, to the Vampire long enough to give him the one thing that she could have never given as a human. The marks they had had always gone both ways, but the symbolism of this was not lost on him. She'd let herself be what she never wanted to be long enough to give him what he'd wanted from her.  
  
Buffy looked up at him and smiled. "I need to shower."  
  
Those were words he hadn't expected after something so intimate.  
  
"O...okay, Love," Spike stuttered, body thrumming with lust and adoration.  
  
She lifted herself off of him slowly, the thin muscles of her fit body rippling under golden peach skin. Feline in every way. Her wicked smile had not left her face as she placed a parting kiss on his neck, making his body shudder. "Mine."  
  
"Yours," he repeated, completely, in every way, at her mercy.  
  
Her naked body slid gracefully to its feet on the floor, standing next to the bed. She extended her hand to him. "I didn't mean alone," she whispered, devilish smile growing.  
  
Spike returned it, a newfound adoration glittering in the perfect blue of his eyes. "Do you. You understand.?"  
  
"Come with me," Buffy purred, pulling him to his feet. "Not much time and I want to spend a few minutes alone with you."  
  
Spike wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling her ear. "Want more than a few minutes."  
  
"Come with me," she purred again.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Buffy sat on the living room floor, laughing hysterically while Will tried to chase Emma but kept falling off balance because of the cast. Spike must have shot his hand out a hundred times to steady the boy, but he persisted despite the giant yellow roadblock to his success. That made Spike smile. Watching it was like watching what he went through chasing Buffy for all of those years.  
  
There was no doubt. Temporary or not, the cure had worked. Spike hadn't tried to take her outside, but she sat in a patch of sunlight, now tackled by her son and rolling on the floor in mock defeat, the daylight making her hair glisten like spun gold and the smile making her look as young as the first moment they had met. When he saw her dancing. She was beautiful. Always. His golden goddess.  
  
The kids had been a brilliant idea. Her mood had changed in just the few hours she had been awake from sullen and afraid, to vixen, to perfectly content. His Buffy. Always moody and just the way he liked her.  
  
The thought struck him as the two tots curled around their mum on the floor, sleepy from what seemed to be a huge breakfast courtesy of the good Witch and an hour of heavy play, that this may be it. He tried to shake it from his mind, but like a virus, it returned. There were no guarantees in life. Especially not in theirs. Nothing that said that this *would* end and that they would have another afternoon like this. It could be the last. Could be the last time he could see his sleepy tots snuggle into her and her laying there smiling like the world was all right.  
  
It would be all right again.  
  
Had to be.  
  
If not, he'd feed her every night. Give her every day. Take it. Take the torture. Teach her to be. Make it okay again.  
  
But he just really wanted Buffy back. He never realized that the frailty of her humanity was nearly as important to her, to his, existence as the Slayer. More. It was that frailty, that humanity, that had reminded him how real love, the love of ages and lifetimes and quiet moments in the sunshine, was supposed to be. He'd always had the capacity to love. Truly. Madly. Deeply. But her humanity was what made that love constant and steady and just as real making breakfast as it was making love.  
  
Spike had to have that back. Had to make it right.  
  
"Think I tired them out," Buffy whispered, the smile still stretched across soft coral lips.  
  
Spike shook his head. "What, Pet?"  
  
Her eyebrow quirked. "You OK? Got all Far Away Man on me."  
  
He chuckled although it only came out a short exhale. "Just got lost watching you, Love. Won't happen again."  
  
Her smile broadened. "I like it when you look like that."  
  
Spike eased off the couch and stretched out on the floor next to her, sandwiching a drowsy Emma between them. William was curled like a cat on her other side, yellow arm draped haphazardly over his mum. "Why's that?" Spike asked, leaning in to find her cheek.  
  
Buffy closed her eyes, savouring the feel of his lips against hers. "You look all dreamy and poetic."  
  
He rolled his eyes. "William the First flashbacks, Pet?"  
  
"You do have a lot of him in you. Whether or not you like to admit it," she chided, nuzzling her cheek against his nose. "What were you thinking about?"  
  
"You," Spike answered. She rolled her head, her eyes inches from his.  
  
"What about me?"  
  
Spike sighed, knowing this would just add fuel to the waxing poetic fire. "What I love about you."  
  
Buffy smiled. "More of him than you'll ever admit," she taunted playfully.  
  
"That's enough outta you, Love," Spike responded, nipping her nose. "Or I'll have to remind you of the rest of the package later."  
  
A sly grin broke across her features. "Not a punishment. I.uh. like your package."  
  
"Naughty Slayer," he grinned, planting his lips softly against hers. She sighed into his mouth.  
  
"Wish we could have more days like this. Kinda miss the whole domestic bliss what with the Slaying and the saving the World and suddenly getting all Vamp-ish."  
  
He kissed her again. "Lots of days like this to come, Love," Spike encouraged, despite his own fears. "Many even better. Some a bit worse."  
  
Buffy sighed. "That's life, I guess."  
  
"Ours," Spike chuckled. "Got a bit more excitement than your run of the mill existence."  
  
She shrugged. "Better than your run of the mill life anyway. I mean, we get all the comforts of regular people moments mixed in with the fun and excitement of Prophesies and Apocalypses. What more could a girl want?"  
  
Again, Spike chuckled. "I couldn't ask for better."  
  
"Do you." She paused, trying to think of the right words. "Do you... I mean. never mind."  
  
"Ask, Love. Think you know that I'd pretty much answer anything," Spike prodded. "If for no other reason that I love the sound of my own voice."  
  
Buffy chuckled loudly making Emma stir next to her. Spike stroked the little girl's arm and she drifted back off, her back pressed to her father's chest and her arm draped over her mum, just above Will's. "Sorry, just. well, true."  
  
Spike rolled his eyes. "Just ask."  
  
Buffy took a deep breath. "You. You've lived a long time. Almost a bunch of different lives. I mean, first you were William. Then William the Bloody. Spike, Scourge of Europe. Spike of Sunnydale." She giggled, having a vision of a little Spike skipping through the tulips in pigtails. He rolled his eyes, feeling the image and groaning.  
  
"To the point, this millennium, Pet," Spike pushed.  
  
"Oh, yeah," Buffy continued, still giggling. "Anyway, now you're all Captain Suburbia, William Windsor. Husband. Father of two. Driving the nice middle class SUV to the supermarket for diapers."  
  
Spike cringed, thinking of how domestic his life had become, and then smiled, thinking how much he loved where he was at this moment. "Your point," he prodded again, this time with less impatience.  
  
"So," she went on, hesitantly, "Do you miss it?"  
  
"Miss what, Love?" Spike asked, tucking Emma more comfortably against him and moving closer to Buffy.  
  
"Any of it? Your other lives? Victorian England.?"  
  
"Full of poncy poofs and I was a hopeless git. Don't miss a thing," Spike blurted to Buffy's amusement.  
  
"Spike and Dru burn and pillage Europe?" Buffy asked, finding his hand with hers.  
  
"Think of it as Vampire, the Teenage Years, Pet," Spike commented. "Blowing off steam. Rebelling. Fell in with the wrong crowd."  
  
Buffy smiled. "Chipped Spike of Sunnydale?"  
  
"Other than the obvious disgust with the mental images that that conjures, wasn't all that bad considering I was a leashed puppy getting kicked by its master. " Buffy frowned as the words slid from his mouth. "But, least she was a pretty master doing her job and she came round." His hand caressed her face, and she knew she had been wrong. More than that, she knew she had been forgiven.  
  
"You know, I'm sorry."  
  
Spike cut off that train to guilt with a soft kiss. "Had to be that Vampire to get to now. Don't mind a moment."  
  
She was silent, watching the honesty swirl around in his eyes with the love and the adoration. There were more emotions in one blink of his long eyelashes than there were in many people's entire lives. "So, do you miss any of it?"  
  
His brow furrowed. "You asking me if I'd rather be in any of those places, doing any of those things, rather than be here?"  
  
Buffy nodded, biting her bottom lip. "Yeah."  
  
"No," he answered swiftly and surely. "Not a minute. Not a second. Doesn't cross my mind."  
  
"It has to cross your mind," Buffy whispered, her face almost flush to his now, her breath blowing softly against his mouth.  
  
Spike shook his head, his nose rubbing hers. "It doesn't, honestly. Don't want to be anywhere else. Don't regret anything that happened before. Don't want to change it back because everything that happened brought me to you. Brought me here. Gave me your love and gave me the tots. How could I, in a million years, ever want to change a thing? I'd die again to save this life."  
  
Tears pooled in her eyes. "But if you died, then you wouldn't get to live it."  
  
Again, his palm caressed her cheek, his thumb tracing her cheekbone. "Not planning on it, Love. But I'd rather die here, in this life; with you then have to go back to any other. And I'd rather be looking down on you knowing that you were still living it, than to let you down again."  
  
"You never let me down," Buffy choked out, tears starting to spill. "You never."  
  
"Shh, Pet," Spike comforted, kissing the trail of a tear down her cheek. "Don't look back. Got too much ahead. Mites growing up. School. Panic over the whole teenage experiment. First dates and proms and college and that horrid day when. I can't even say it."  
  
A smile broke through Buffy's tears. "What?"  
  
A huge, stage sigh erupted from Spike's mouth. "No, no. It's too rancid to even think."  
  
"What?" Buffy asked, pushing his chest gently with the palm of her hand.  
  
Again, Spike sighed. "That horrid day when we become in laws to the Harris clan."  
  
Buffy burst into giggles, shaking her head. "Now that's a nightmare. Worse than any apocalypse."  
  
"No need to tell me, Love," Spike groaned. "Have to be nice to the git so as not to hurt River's feelings."  
  
"Ooh, and what if they had kids? They'd be all genetically mixy with you and me and Xander and Takina."  
  
Spike shuddered at that thought. "Right then, time to clean out the old brain. Got some naughty video upstairs, care to join?"  
  
Buffy chuckled, batting him again. "You always can make me laugh. You always bring me back."  
  
"Selfish, really," Spike replied, settling back in next to her.  
  
"How?"  
  
"Like you," he answered, nuzzling her ear. "Love you."  
  
"Always?"  
  
"Every day."  
  
To be contd. 


	28. Leaving Home

Good evening, All,  
  
Well, despite the single worst stomach flu I've had in years, I did manage to push this one through on time. There will be one more chapter of this saga this week, as well as a specialty, birthday fic for a friend (as soon as my mind decides to work full time again).  
  
The action is picking up and we are cruising steadily towards the finale. Do keep in mind what you would like to see happen after this book, as I will be asking. With the fate of our show sealed, I am curious to know if you would like to see this saga continue, or if you would like to change paths a bit and concentrate more on Emma and Will. Our own little series. Just a thought.  
  
Anyway, please enjoy this chapter. Feedback helps me survive so give it up! The Muse would be everso grateful.  
  
Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy the chapter.  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
Title: Leaving Home (Chapter Twenty-eight of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at .  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Buffy and Spike prepare for patrol. Giles puts the plan to protect the children into action and Anya comes to the rescue. Draconius and Luke discover that they have a new problem to contend with. Meanwhile, Spike thinks that Buffy is back to normal. Or is she?  
  
Leaving Home  
Buffy dressed in silence as he sat on the bed, watching. Black leather pants. Black blouse with a black tank top underneath. Black boots. It was all a startling contrast to her pretty blonde hair and innocent face, but the clothing was nothing in contrast to the black cloud that hung over her like a thunderstorm waiting to exhale.  
  
"You all right, Pet?" Spike asked, sliding another stake into his duster pocket. She strapped on the wrist sheathes that he had made for her and went to the closet to find her jacket.  
  
"Fine," she answered, sullenly. Still Buffy. But he knew both her discomfort and his was from the knowledge that it wouldn't be her much longer.  
  
Slowly, he approached her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. Buffy sighed, leaning back against him, knowing that she could put up the mother of all brave fronts, but not around him. "You're not, Pet."  
  
"No," Buffy answered. "I'm not. I'm going to be the Scourge of Sunnydale in about an hour. How could I be fine?"  
  
Spike spun her around slowly, forcing her to face him. "You won't, Love. Got the world's second best demon fighter at your side. Won't let you wreak havoc on the innocents." He smiled, hoping that she'd let herself laugh, but she just stared up at him, eyes full of fear. "C'mon, Pet. The Witches and your Watcher will suss it out. Probably while we're gone. In the meantime, I won't let anything happen to you."  
  
"You didn't seem to be able to stop me last night," Buffy huffed, spinning back around.  
  
Spike turned her gently to face him once again. "I didn't want to, Pet. Wanted you to claim me. Wanted to help you."  
  
Buffy's eyes filled, her hand sliding to the now exposed wound on his neck. It was healing, but still raw and jagged. "How can you love me?"  
  
Spike had to chuckle at that. "How can I not? Don't want me to start a list, do ya? Might take me all bloody night."  
  
At that, Buffy smiled, letting her head fall against his chest. "I don't want to lose you. I don't want to lose them."  
  
"Won't happen," Spike whispered, kissing the crown of her head. "Never lose us. Just have to hang on, Love. We'll get it sorted. In the meantime, nothing like a good spot of violence to quell the beast."  
  
Buffy pushed from his chest, looking up at his face. "Thought it was the righteous shag?" A grin broke across her face at the devilish glint in his eyes.  
  
"If you behave, you'll have both, Pet."  
  
~~~~~  
The door shutting upstairs made them jump.  
  
Dawn and Tara were on the back porch, watching for signs of the spell working. Willow, Oz, Giles and Xander sat in the basement, listening to the sound of the door slam and footsteps on the front stairs.  
  
"I.I don't know if this is a good idea. I mean. Giles. what if she notices before we've figured out how." Willow stuttered as Giles rose from his chair and walked towards the phone.  
  
"I think it a rather poor option to give Buffy the opportunity to do what she did to Spike last night, albeit unwittingly, to one of her children. What do you think that she would be more likely to forgive, Willow? Removing her children from danger or allowing her to harm one of them?" Giles responded, his face stony as he dialed. "Yes. It's time. Randy's with the sitter? Good. Best he not be around them. Right then. Anya, are you. you know that you're being asked to defend them? I know, dear. But you must. I know you love them. Please, just. if Buffy does find you and she's not herself, do what you can to simply stop her, but not harm her too badly. I know. If it comes down to it. but. Yes, Spike is with her. Right. It's time. Goodbye."  
  
"You didn't just tell Anya it was all right to." Xander asked, wide eyed.  
  
"To what?" Giles asked, his body stiff with tension. Slowly, he stalked the room.  
  
"K.kill her?" Xander continued, his hands nervously fluttering in his lap.  
  
Giles closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "As a matter of fact, Xander, I asked her not to. If you would cease to jump to conclusions.."  
  
Xander nodded solemnly. "I'm sorry. This is... it's all too much."  
  
The Watcher rolled his head, closing his eyes and trying to center himself. "I understand. But you must also give me credit for being the girl's Watcher and her. close to her," Giles continued. "I'd never wish harm upon her. Anya. she's quite. she's become quite protective over children and I wanted her to be wary of how vigorously she defends them. Do only what she has to. But Spike chose her because of."  
  
"Spike?" Willow asked. "Spike asked Anya to take the kids?"  
  
Giles nodded. "Spike asked me to address it with Anya. He knows she'd sooner die than let one of the children perish. She's the only one of us remaining who is powerful enough to defend them against a Slayer infected by Vampirism." He thought for a moment, looking at Willow. "Possibly not the only one," he amended. "But I don't think Spike really wants to put you in a position.."  
  
"I understand," Willow responded, nodding. "Just. this can't be happening."  
  
Oz smiled from his spot on the recliner. "A nickel for every time I've heard that on the Hellmouth."  
  
Xander chuckled. "We'd all be living large."  
  
~~~~~~  
Giles had sent Tara to take Dawn to the supermarket. Dawn didn't need to see this. Even if she were old enough to understand why they were taking the kids, she didn't need to swallow that dose of reality quite yet. Oz and Xander walked the perimeter of the house as Giles and Anya stood in the front hall, bundling the two confused children into coats.  
  
William looked at Giles sadly as Giles worked the toggles of William's jacket. The look on the boy's face made him want to cry. "It'll be quite all right, Will. Have you back in no time."  
  
Emma stared at Anya for a moment, a bit of defiance creeping into her sad countenance. "Does daddy know you're taking us away?"  
  
Anya smiled, wrapping an arm around Emma's waist and pulling the little girl against her. "Of course. He asked me to take you for a weekend getaway. You, me, Will and all the popcorn and Disney movies you can handle."  
  
Emma smiled a little at that. "Are you sure? Because daddy doesn't like it when we're away." Again, Anya smiled, the sadness showing through. "No, he doesn't. Neither does your mum. But sometimes you have to be away from the people you love. Just for a little while."  
  
Emma seemed to accept that, even if she was wary. Will just stood quietly and stared at Giles. "You all right, Will?"  
  
"Mum," William whispered, under his breath. "Want mummy."  
  
"She and your father had to go out to help people. It might take a bit longer than normal, that's all. But she'll be back to get you. Promise," Giles comforted, ruffling the boy's hair and handing a bottle of pills to Anya. "His pain medication. For the arm."  
  
Anya nodded. "Don't worry, Will. We'll have fun and then your mum will come and get you."  
  
Tears pooled in the little boys eyes. "But she'll have to kill gramma."  
  
Giles looked at Anya. Anya raised a brow, crouching down in front of the boy. "Your gramma.. Your gramma is in Heaven," she said softly. "I was there when she went away. I was drinking fruit punch. She was nice. But she's safe in Heaven. Your mum won't have to kill anyone."  
  
Will nodded, even if he didn't agree. Sometimes, grown ups could be so blind. He'd talk to Emma later.  
  
"Ready?" Anya asked, holding out a hand on each side, two small palms making contact with hers. "We'll have a great time. Promise."  
  
Emma stopped. "Pony. I want Pony."  
  
Again, a glance exchanged between Anya and Giles. The Watcher looked at his mate pleadingly. Anya shrugged. "Go get the bowls and food, Emma. Giles, put a leash on that monster and load him up." ~~~~~  
  
"Oh, we got problems," Luke cooed, watching the monitor from his seat on the bench of the Jacuzzi.  
  
"What *now*?" Draconius asked, peeling the cucumbers from his eyes and shooting a pained glance over at his counterpart.  
  
"Um. seems the chicks have flown the coop," Luke answered, passing the device over to the Old One and waving to the minion for another Cosmopolitan.  
  
"Dammit!" Draconius screamed, almost dropping the monitor into the water. "I should've known that those obnoxious gits would have caught on."  
  
Luke sighed. "They're pesky, even for humans."  
  
"It's that Vampire on the side of good," Draconius mumbled. "Threw off the whole cosmic balance. "  
  
"Thought we knew he was coming all along?" Luke questioned, sipping at his fresh drink.  
  
Draconius sighed. "We did. But we had the wrong one. Who could have known that it wasn't the one with all the hair gel and the soul?"  
  
"Angel," Luke sighed, dreamily.  
  
Draconius sneered. "Well, Angel wasn't all he was cracked up to be, now was he. This pesky little Billy Idol wannabe slipped right through the cracks, went all martyr on us and then knocked up the Slayer. Bang, starting of the end of the World as we know it."  
  
A frightened look crossed Luke's face. "We can fix it though, right?"  
  
"If we can get the Peacemaker," Draconius answered, pushing himself out of the water.  
  
"Where are you going?" Luke asked, watching the ancient one slip into a red bathrobe.  
  
"We must find the location of the children and send the Pawn. It's time. I'm done playing games with the Slayer and her winsome Lover," Draconius growled. "Fetch me Leonora," he hissed at a minion.  
  
"Oooh, I love it when you get all authoritative," Luke squealed as he got out to join his partner.  
  
~~~~~  
  
She spun, and in one graceful, fluid movement, plunged the stake into the Vampire's heart, watching the dust blow and flutter around her. The move lacked all of the violence of the night before. All of the bloodlust. Spike had to smile as her momentum stopped and she stood there before him, victorious smile spreading across plump coral lips.  
  
"Not bad, Pet," Spike commented, walking towards her and wrapping a hand through hers.  
  
"Thanks," she chirped, squeezing her fingers around his.  
  
"How are you feeling?"  
  
She furrowed her brow a moment, shrugging her shoulders and shaking out her hands. "Me-ish. Still."  
  
He smiled, kissing her head. "Maybe the little Slayer transfusion really worked," he said, kissing the top of her head. "Seem to be in top form."  
  
"Feel good," Buffy answered, her eyes scanning the landscape for something else to fight.  
  
They walked in silence for a while, the only sound their boots clacking against cement in the crisp air. She hadn't changed. At least not when they had thought. It had gone past the thirteen hours and the sun was down. But it was still Buffy who strode beside him; her arm now snaked around his waist as if they were just two lovers strolling through town. It was far too much to hope for, he thought.  
  
"How do you feel?" Buffy finally asked. "I mean, it's pretty obvious when the whole demon takes over Buffy happens. But you've got my little Slayer inside."  
  
"Bloody bitch," Spike snarked. "Pushy little someone. Always has to be black and white. Right and wrong. Wonder you ever got near me with her buzzing in your veins night and day, Pet."  
  
Buffy chuckled. "Guess I didn't notice."  
  
Spike rolled his eyes at her. "Right, Pet. That's why you gave me the easy road to hoe in the beginning."  
  
"No fun without the chase," Buffy commented, looking up at him with glittering, completely green, eyes. "Sorry about that."  
  
"Why'r you sorry? You got the short end of the stick on this exchange, Love. I just got the bossy white hat and an incredible desire to eat peanut butter," Spike responded. Again, she laughed, making his heart sing with relief.  
  
A noise startled them out of their conversation. Both Slayer and Vampire stopped in their tracks, listening. There was a high, keening moan. Female. And then a deeper growl. Something not human. Something. big.  
  
Before they even spoke, both took off towards the sound, finding a young girl pinned on her knees to the side of a mausoleum, hair slick with her own blood and scratches covering her tattered body. A large, green-gray blobish thing with claws was standing over her, swatting at her like a cat swats at a ball of string. The sound was its laughter. The mewling was her screams.  
  
Spike looked down at Buffy. Her eyes blazed with anger, watching the seven foot demon toy with the girl and before he could figure a plan, she launched herself towards the thing, screaming. Spike ran towards the girl, pulling her from the wall and lifting her against him. She was bleeding, but most of the wounds seemed shallow and her heartbeat was strong and steady. He could hear the sounds of Buffy pounding the demon behind her, but he had to get the girl out of the way. Get her to relative safety.  
  
There was a bench ahead underneath an overhead light. Quickly, Spike bolted towards the bench, sliding the girl gently onto the wood and taking a quick scan of her wounds. She was out, but not seriously injured. Spike wanted to stay with her. Make sure he got her to help. But Buffy was nearly howling with pain and, he felt, pleasure, at the battle with the mammoth demon. He couldn't leave Buffy. Not again.  
  
"You'll be right as rain, Pet," Spike whispered, pulling the girl's jacket tight around her and brushing hair from her face. He looked up at where Buffy was fighting. She was holding her own. The girl was moaning in pain. Dammit. Moral dilemma. Hate the bloody light.  
  
Spike went against his primal need to be with his mate and took off for the payphone, dialing 911. "Found a girl attacked in Sunnydale Memorial Cemetery. On the bench near the entrance. Following her attacker," Spike spit into the phone and hung up, tearing back up towards the mausoleum.  
  
He arrived just in time to see Buffy fly backwards against the cement wall, howling in pain as her back slammed into the concrete. Spike ran at the demon, knocking it back and turned back to face Buffy. She was dazed, slumped in the other girl's blood, staring up at Spike in confusion.  
  
"Spike?" She whispered, her voice thready and afraid.  
  
"Buffy?" He asked, moving faster towards her, the demon starting to stir behind him.  
  
Her body shook, her nose beginning to scent the air. Buffy closed her eyes, her face set in a grimace of pain and anger. "Buffy?" Spike repeated, spinning once, to kick the demon back one more time.  
  
When he returned to facing his love, her eyes flickered open.  
  
Yellow eyes.  
  
To be contd. 


	29. Worthy

Good evening, All,  
  
Well, here is the latest installment of The One. Thank goodness for speedy betas and a Muse who can be kick started with chocolate cookies (I'm really hungry after the whole stomach flu incident). I was hoping to have a ficlet out this weekend too, but it's still in the works. Be out soon, Crystal!  
  
I do hope you like the story. Please, as always, let me know. We're getting to the climax now, so hang in there. It'll be okay in the end. Better than okay, really. That is if you like chocolate and yummy Vampires!  
  
Next chapter should be out by Wednesday!  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
Title: Worthy (Chapter Twenty-Nine of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at .  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Giles deduces the identity of the pawn with Willow's help, and formulates a plan. Draconius and Luke try to circumvent the problem of the relocation of the Peacemaker. Buffy and Spike patrol and his cure seems to be holding up. Or is it?  
Worthy  
Something itched at the back of his mind as he paced the living room, wiping his glasses on his shirttail. It wasn't just sending the children away, but something that was said. Something. Something. Giles gritted his teeth, trying to bring the latent thought to the surface.  
  
Suddenly, it hit him like a bolt of lightning. What William said. 'But she'll have to kill gramma.' Gramma?  
  
Spike's mum?  
  
Oh God. Joyce.  
  
The Watcher ran through the living room, buzzing through the kitchen where Oz and Xander took turns making snacks and watching out the window, tearing down the stairs and nearly diving into the pile of books littering the coffee table.  
  
"What is it?" Willow asked, rubbing her eyes and sitting up from her perch on the couch. The spell still bubbled in the cauldron below her.  
  
"The Horasci texts? Where did we put them?" Giles asked, flipping through tomes and tossing them to the floor.  
  
"R...red book. Second from the left," Willow gestured, suddenly becoming aware. "Why?"  
  
"Something Will said before he left," Giles muttered, grabbing the book and flipping through. "Do you remember anything about the pawn?"  
  
Again, the Witch rubbed her eyes. "Um.only that it can be destroyed by destroying the token that carries the spell. Which would make this whole getting Buffy back gig much easier."  
  
"Oh God," Giles muttered again. "The pawn, does it have to be dead?"  
  
Willow thought a moment. "I.I don't remember. But that would make sense."  
  
The Watcher stopped, finding the section of text he had been searching for. "The spell requires a vector in the dimension of its target," Giles read aloud. "One that carries out the spell towards the purposes of the sorcerer. The vector, or pawn, can be of any origin; however, the maximum control is rendered when the vector is taken from a non mortal dimension."  
  
"Dead," Willow confirmed.  
  
Giles nodded, his finger skimming the page as he muttered words to himself. "Oh God," he said once again.  
  
"What?" Willow asked, fear settling over her like a vice.  
  
"If this is correct, then the pawn is someone who has passed into a non mortal dimension. The spell itself is simple to counteract. All one has to do is break the talisman, thereby ending the spell and neutralizing the pawn. According to the texts, the pawn then returns to the spell's master," Giles sputtered, his eyes flitting between the pages of the text and Willow's frightened face.  
  
"Okay," she answered. "Not sure I'm following."  
  
"How would someone as evil as Draconius, as purely torturous, make sure his pawn survived?" Giles asked, his eyes growing large and sad.  
  
Willow thought for a moment, letting her eyes slide closed. "Um, I guess. Make the pawn something you don't want to destroy?"  
  
Giles nodded. "Worse yet. Steal her from someplace else. Another non mortal dimension and pit her against those she once cared about. That way, killing her and returning her to the spell's master would be just as cruel a fate."  
  
Again, Willow thought, her eyes growing larger. "Are you thinking.?"  
  
He took a deep breath. "Yes."  
  
"Buffy's mom?" Willow asked, her heart now picking up a frantic pace. "And.and if Buffy or Spike or any of us break the amulet, then she gets sent back to Draconius?"  
  
"Who will doubtlessly torture her for failing," Giles responded, fear gripping him.  
  
"Oh God," Willow muttered. "What. why wouldn't Heaven help her?"  
  
"They must not know she was taken," Giles answered standing and beginning to pace around the room.  
  
"We need to let them know then!" The Witch exclaimed, popping up from the couch. "We.we need to find a way for them to reclaim her before this. Oh God, how?"  
  
Giles paced again, chewing on his pencil. He stopped suddenly, causing Willow's head to jerk from watching his movements. "Cyrus."  
  
"Cyrus?" Willow asked.  
  
"He's an emissary to the Queen, remember?" Giles gushed, searching for the phone. "An Immortal. An Officer to the Queen of the Sky. He can talk to her. "  
  
"Now?" Willow said. "I mean, now is good, but we need it a week ago now."  
  
"I'll find him. You be sure to tell them all to do everything in their power not to kill the pawn. Only.only if Emma is in imminent danger is she harmed. If we kill her in this state."  
  
"Draconius has her forever," Willow whispered. "I'll tell them."  
  
Giles nodded, jogging for the stairs. "Try to tell Spike, if you can. If they come back and."  
  
Willow nodded. "Go." ~~~~~  
  
The old hag sat in a darkened room, candles blazing in a circle around her. A cauldron bubbled in front of her, steam rising in slow whispers in front of her old, wizened face.  
  
The hag twitched, seeing something in the fog, and then waved a hand to clear it. A handful of herbs were thrown into the fire, causing more tendrils of smoke to creep up from the cauldron, winding in pretty patterns in front of the witches face.  
  
Draconius and Luke stood just outside the circle watching. Waiting.  
  
"The Children were taken," the hag whispered, her voice arid and distant.  
  
"We *knew* that," Luke whined. Draconius slapped the back of Luke's head.  
  
"They are now with a demon protector."  
  
"A demon?" Draconius asked. "Not the Vampire?"  
  
"A demon of Vengeance. A powerful demon," Lenora answered. "She was charged with their protection."  
  
Draconius sighed. "Well, that changes things a bit. Is there. can we infiltrate this demon? Force her to our side?"  
  
The hag shook her head slowly. "Like the Vampire of Heart, she is integrated. She has a soul. She loves and is loved. Her essence is one with theirs."  
  
"What *is* it with these demons?" Luke whined, putting his hands on his hips. "I mean, what are the chances of two tame ones turning their backs on all the good bits about being a demon."  
  
"There are more than just the two," Lenora interrupted, still staring at the wisps of smoke. "There is a healer and a wolf among them now as well. They all serve to assist and protect The One and thus their Prophesy."  
  
Draconius sighed. "Can the pawn get there? Will she have any effect at all on the demon who has taken the children?"  
  
The hag was silent. "The demon knows the pawn. The demon would hesitate, yes. But she is more likely to kill than The One."  
  
"Then we'd better hurry. Keep them off guard. Can you lead the pawn to the children's location and then wait until my command?" Draconius asked.  
  
The Witch nodded her reply through the haze. "I can."  
  
"Do it," Draconius ordered. "I will return."  
  
~~~~~  
Willow walked slowly back down the steps. She had gathered the rest in the living room and told them what Giles had discovered. Even stranger, how he had discovered it. Maybe Will wasn't quite as powerless as he seemed. But that investigation was for another day.  
  
It had occurred to them, as Willow filled them in, that they needed to get word to Anya. Giles had told them that even he was not sure where Anya was taking the kids. That is was best that way. Anya would check in each day until she could confirm it was safe. Still, she had to be told about the pawn.  
  
She had to know about Joyce.  
  
Willow sat on the floor, relaxing into a deep meditation. If she couldn't use the phone, she'd speed dial the demon's mind. Anya didn't seem to mind telepathy as much as the rest and could almost initiate it on her own now. But still, they were all jumpy and she didn't want to just barge in. Especially not while the kids were involved.  
  
"Anya?" Willow finally thought as she reached full relaxation. "Anya? It's important. Please."  
  
"What?" An annoyed voice finally answered. "Driving here, Willow. Don't really need distractions."  
  
"The pawn," Willow said briefly. "It's. It's Buffy's mom."  
  
"What?" Anya nearly screamed. Willow could see the car swerve and her body jolted. Calm returned as the demon corrected and pulled over to the side of the road.  
  
"The pawn," Willow repeated.  
  
"Joyce?" Anya answered. "What? Why?"  
  
"Just. unless she is actively hurting Emma or Will. or, I guess, you, don't break the amulet. Don't hurt her."  
  
Anya thought a moment in silence. "Okay, but why?"  
  
"Because then she'll be returned to Draconius and never be able to go back to Heaven," Willow answered.  
  
"Oh." There was a moment of silence. "That's pretty low. using her mom."  
  
"Yeah," Willow commented. "Just. try."  
  
"Right," Anya answered. "No killing the pawn unless absolutely necessary." There was another pause. "Did my Rupie figure all this out?"  
  
Willow smiled despite herself. "He did," she answered.  
  
"Give him a kiss for me. Oh, but not on the lips because then I'd have to despise you and we'd cat fight but."  
  
"A nice, innocent kiss on the cheek," Willow replied. "Take care of them."  
  
"I will," Anya said softly. "They belong to us all."  
  
"They do," Willow confirmed. "Bye."  
  
"Bye."  
  
~~~~~  
Oz opened the back door, sandwich in hand. It was unusually dark, the moon hidden by a heavy layer of clouds. He took a bite of his supper looking around.  
  
Something seemed off.  
  
Slowly, he descended the stair case, following his senses into the garden, towards the tool shed. Oz slid open the door, turning on the bare, overhead light.  
  
Nothing.  
  
"Hunh," he whispered to himself, turning around. "Odd."  
  
Suddenly, he saw it. Like a silvery wave, undulating in the night air in front of him. Dancing like Tinkerbelle's magical wake. "I thought it would be brighter," he muttered to himself as he ran towards the house.  
  
"Willow!" Oz screamed from the back door.  
  
The thundering of footsteps from all corners of the house confirmed that everyone now answered to the name and before the wolf knew it, several bodies stood before him, wide eyed and panting.  
  
"What...what is it?" The real Willow asked. He motioned her outside, walking to the place where he saw the twinkling trail.  
  
"Do you see it?" Oz asked, pointing out the glitter.  
  
"That's it?" Dawn whined, passing her hand through the trail. "I thought it'd be. sparklier."  
  
"It should be," Willow gasped. "Dammit. She's moving and we haven't got any real way to follow her."  
  
Oz smiled. It wasn't often Willow got upset enough to curse. "I think I can follow this," he commented, still calmly eating his sandwich. "You know. canine."  
  
Willow smiled. "I'll. I'll go see if I can make it brighter. You try and follow. Oh, and take someone. Xander. Take Xander. Oh, and a phone. Take Xander's cell phone."  
  
"If I'm taking Xander, the phone will come with," Oz comforted, putting a hand on Willow's back. "We can follow it."  
  
"Good." She smiled nervously. "Remember. No killing unless."  
  
"No killing," Oz confirmed, nodding. "Go make the twinklies. twinklier." He turned to Xander. "You drive; I hang my head out the window and sniff?"  
  
"Just don't slobber and you've got a deal," Xander agreed, running back into the house for his keys.  
  
Oz took a long look at Willow. "Don't worry, Will. It'll work."  
  
Willow nodded. "Better work on sparklies. Thank. Thank you."  
  
He smiled, leaning in and planting a kiss on her cheek. "It'll work."  
  
"I hope so."  
  
~~~~~  
  
"Buffy?" Spike asked again, his body frozen, knowing that it was too late. She was gone.  
  
The gold eyes stared back at him, nearly devoid of any trace of his girl. His golden goddess. Her face was the same, but the emptiness of her eyes changed even her looks.  
  
Suddenly, she propelled herself from the wall with lightening speed, an angry roar coming from her pretty lips. Spike braced himself for impact, but she bounded past him and slammed into the demon behind them.  
  
Spike stood back, too surprised, confused, upset to do anything else. Buffy had the demon on the ground again in an instant. Pounding it into a headstone. Beating it with fists, nipping with fangs. She was brutality at its finest. Not her fluid graceful dance. This was the kill of an animal.  
  
The demon twitched for a moment and fell still, but Buffy continued to beat on it until it finally disappeared into a ball of thick gray ooze, sinking down into the grass. Spike took a step towards her as she knelt over where the demon used to lay and her head swiveled to face him.  
  
"Love," he whispered, staring down into those blank, golden eyes.  
  
"Spike," she answered, a grin breaking on face. It made him shiver.  
  
"S'me, Pet," Spike answered, dropping to his knees a few feet from her. She turned, crawling on all fours towards him like a jungle cat, that devious grin spreading wide across her face. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.  
  
"Finally," Buffy hissed, reaching him and rocking up onto her knees. His eyes slid closed as her hands found his face, palms pressed to his cheeks. He could feel her breath against his mouth, coming in short pants. "Finally," she repeated.  
  
Spike's hands moved to her hips, grasping her gently. "I'm here, Love. Never leaving."  
  
Her mouth pressed softly to his, lips brushing like butterfly wings. "Spike," she sighed.  
  
"S'alright, Pet. I've got you," Spike encouraged.  
  
Her eyes flickered open at the same time he dared to open his. Her gold flashed against his blue, nearly burning a hole into his heart, crushing him. "Finally."  
  
"Finally what, Love?" He asked, brushing her wild hair from her face.  
  
A smile spread across her features. "A worthy adversary," she hissed, slamming her head forward and head butting him into the ground.  
To be contd. 


	30. Autumn into Summer

Good evening, All,  
  
Wow, hectic week at Chez Nim. I am barely eking these out. Not because I am out of ideas, but because I'm out of time! I have this all sorted in my head and have to get it down on paper to share. Not to mention I *still* owe Crystal what is now a half written piece of yumminess for her birthday. Poor girl. She's got to be bored playing with her Spike!Bot by now. (yeah, right).  
  
Well, one of my betas just sent one word back with this chapter. Unsettling. That, I'm afraid, it is. But I will right it before all is said and done. I would not call this angsty, but unexpected and disturbing it will be. Hang on and have faith. All will be well.  
  
Let me know what you think!  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
Title: Autumn into Summer (Chapter Thirty of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at .  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Spike battles the demon in Buffy. Giles pleads with Cyrus for his help to save the Pawn. Xander and Oz go off to follow the trail and hopefully protect the kids. Buffy manages to get to the house and realizes that something very important is missing.  
  
Autumn into Summer  
  
Spike lay on the ground, stunned. His eyes swimming from the force of the blow. His mind reeling from what he thought was about to happen. Buffy. His girl. The only thing she now recognized about him was that he was her match in battle. Her most worthy adversary.  
  
Her foe.  
  
Buffy grinned down at him, hopping to her feet in a feral, catlike motion. Spike had only a split second to come to his senses and roll hard right before she pounced, missing him by centimeters. As she scrambled towards him, he pushed the thoughts of caressing her, kissing her, loving her, into the back of his mind and let the annoying little light inside of him bubble to the surface. Even then, he knew he couldn't kill her. But he'd have to fight. He'd have to fight her as he had when they'd met. One on one.  
  
Spike desperately wanted to know that they'd still never find out who would win in the end. That particular question never need be answered. But he knew that if it came down to it, as always, she'd be the victor. He just didn't have it in him to draw their last breath.  
  
Buffy's eyes glittered yellow as she hopped again to her feet, stalking towards him, her stance not so much the perfect, balanced form of the Slayer, but rather the primal, tight muscled motion of a predator about to strike. He spread his feet, bracing himself and took a breath, never letting his eyes leave hers. Willing her back.  
  
"Shall we?" Buffy grinned, her eyeteeth now extended to her bottom lip. Her face contorted into a grimace not far from Spike's game face.  
  
"Buffy," Spike whispered. "Please."  
  
"She's not home," the voice in her body hissed, the grin spreading. "But I am."  
  
"And I will bloody well beat you out of her if I have to," Spike snarled, positioning himself for defense.  
  
"You can try," she answered. Before he could form another word, she hurtled through the air, covering the distance between them in less than a second, her foot catching his shoulder and sending him reeling into the mausoleum. He countered, grabbing her leg as she landed and twisting hard, using her momentum to toss her to the ground.  
  
The smile on her face widened as she kipped up to meet him, spinning and throwing a perfect reverse roundhouse to his gut, catching his arm as he threw a fist and slamming it back to his side, landing a left hook, all in one movement. Spike's hand came to his face, feeling the blood trickle from his mouth and down at her. Her eyes glittered and her nose twitched, smelling him. Tasting his blood on the air.  
  
"You can't have her," Spike snarled, stopping her next barrage and squeezing her hand until it nearly broke under his grip and she relented.  
  
"But yet, I do," she answered, giggling and tearing free of his hold. The demon had taken over completely. He had to get her to fight it. Had to get her back to the surface. Had to stop her from pounding him into oblivion before hand.  
  
She raised an eyebrow and launched again, landing another kick to his gut. He went with the flow of the kick, hurtling into a perfect back flip and landing a safe distance back from her. To the casual observer, it must have looked like Cirque du Soleil met Smackdown.  
  
"Buffy, you've got to fight it," Spike pleaded, trying to catch her gaze.  
  
She stopped for a second, looking at him questioningly. Intently. Almost as if she was listening. He took that as a good sign. "Pet, it's me. Don't want to fight you. Don't want to hurt you."  
  
At that, she laughed, the sound crisp and clear in the night air. Her eyes met his again. "Now that's funny," the voice said. It was barely hers anymore. "Almost had me there for a second. But then. you hurt me. Spike, you're just full of the funnies, aren't ya?"  
  
He took another step back. She took one closer. He didn't want to hurt her. Didn't want to have to fight her in earnest. Didn't want to break and batter the body he'd loved for so long. Needed to be whole for when it was hers again. Didn't need to have bruises and scars made by him. They had enough scars. "Buffy, Love, please."  
  
"Enough talking, "she whined, stepping closer again. "Can't we just fight?"  
  
"Don't want to, Pet. Not this way." Truth be told, they fought all the time. But they never went out to hurt each other. Not anymore. They just sparred like bear cubs until they either got tired out or shagged away the rest of their energy. That wasn't what this was. She wanted to take him.  
  
She wanted the question answered.  
  
"Well, I wanna," Buffy answered. "So, either fight back, or hand me your stake and we'll put you out of your misery."  
  
It wasn't her. He knew it wasn't, but it stung all the same. For a moment, he faltered, letting his eyes drop from hers and she took the opening and attacked. Fists flew, striking him in a flurry of impacts as she punched and kicked and snarled. Spike only defended at first, blocking what he could from landing, but finally realized that the only way that he might have a chance at breaking through to his Buffy was wearing down the demon. The muscles in his jaw clenched and he began to fight back.  
  
Blows rained down, both of them moving so fast, still drawing from the One, that it was hard to tell where one began and the other ended. Whose fist had made contact with whose purpling flesh. The dance was off and the battle on as he swaggered between kicks and they tossed insults that they hadn't used since they had been true enemies. She took every advantage, the rules of engagement no longer in effect and low blows and even lower words the fair of the night.  
  
Until finally, in a stroke of complete luck, he had her pinned to the ground, his knees holding her legs, his hands gripping her arms.  
  
"Buffy," he panted; staring down at her flushed and battered face. Even still, he'd left only red marks, pulling some of the force before he'd struck. He could feel blood trickling from wounds above his eye and below his cheek. "Buffy, listen to me."  
  
Her jaw clenched and her body struggled for a moment, until finally, her eyes fluttered up to meet his. "What?" She hissed. "Just kill me and be done with it. Don't get all taunty on me now."  
  
Spike softened, trying to reach inside her mind and pull her to the surface. Push the demon back for her, but it was too strong. Still, he could feel her, just behind those yellow eyes. Maybe he could get to her. "Pet, I won't kill you. I'd die first. You know that."  
  
"Your loss," she answered tritely.  
  
"Yes," Spike answered. "Got a lot to live for, I have."  
  
The yellow eyes stilled, staring up at his. She was silent, but Spike could feel her struggling just behind the demon. Pushing towards him.  
  
"Need you back, Buffy. Gotta fight the demon so we can set things right. I love you, Pet." Spike leaned his face towards hers until his lips were just a hair's breadth from hers. "I love you, always."  
  
"Everyday," a very small, desperate, voice whispered underneath of him.  
  
His eyes drifted to hers, seeing glimmers of green emerging in the gold as if autumn was trying to change back to summer in her eyes. "I love you, Pet," he repeated. "Need you. Emma and Will need you."  
  
"My babies," the small voice answered, still struggling.  
  
"They're safe," Spike answered, nuzzling her cheek gently. "Got them somewhere safe." His grip on her arms released just a fraction and he realized at the last moment, that that error had been critical.  
  
"You took my babies," the hissing voice said, flipping them over until she was on top of him. "And I wanted something tender tonight," she whined. Spike struggled to flip them back but the next, and the last, thing he felt was her fist make contact with his temple and the world shift to black.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
Cyrus sat stiffly in his armchair, listening to Giles get him up to speed on their plight. He had spent the last evening on a marathon conference call with Council headquarters in London and was operating on no sleep while trying to absorb what had become a grievous situation.  
  
"Can you help?" Giles asked nervously, watching Cyrus's exhausted eyes blink back at him.  
  
Cyrus tried to focus, sorting through the barrage of words that had just been thrown his way. "Buffy's mother is the pawn. Draconius stole her from Heaven. If any of us deactivate the pawn by destroying the amulet, then Buffy's mother is returned not to Heaven but to Draconius to do with her as he sees fit. However, if we do not deactivate the pawn, then the One remains imbalanced and the Slayer will become more and more Vampiric, while the Vampire becomes more like the Slayer. Have I followed?"  
  
Giles quirked a brow. "You all right, Cyrus?"  
  
The Immortal raised his hand to his forehead, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "I'm just quite tired. Council quarterly meeting and."  
  
Giles winced, forgetting that he probably should have attended the teleconference as well. As if reading his mind, Cyrus spoke, "But I did inform the others that you were quite busy with the Slayer."  
  
"Thank you," Giles answered, slipping off his glasses and rubbing them on his shirttail. "Do you think, well, with your connections.?" Giles' head rolled towards the ceiling as if he could picture Heaven in the stucco above.  
  
Cyrus sighed deeply. "You want me to go back. Talk to them." It was a statement of fact rather than a question. Really, they hadn't any choice. Traveling from mortal to non-mortal dimensions was never safe or easy, however, as an Immortal and an emissary to a queen, Cyrus could move quickly and directly to the source.  
  
"Yes, yes," Giles answered, nodding shyly. "It is quite important. And Emma isn't quite old enough yet to debrief in regards to the mission."  
  
Cyrus sighed again, standing up and rolling his shoulders, stretching. "I don't suppose that this is something I could do after a good night's rest, is it?"  
  
Giles smiled, knowing that his colleague would do whatever it took, whenever he had to, to protect Emma and her family. "No, I'm afraid that the situation has become quite dire."  
  
"Right then," Cyrus agreed, nodding quickly. "Guess I'll be off."  
  
Giles looked at his knees, then back up at the Immortal. "Cyrus, may I ask where you. I mean. How do you travel to.?"  
  
"Oh, it's quite elaborate with portals and spells and chanting and all sorts of buggery," the Immortal chattered, all the while his very being fading into nothingness. "It takes all sorts of knowledge and bushelfuls of herbs and candles and."  
  
With that, Cyrus disappeared in front of Giles' amused eyes.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
Xander drove slowly down the street, a cell phone held to one ear. "Yeah, we're on the Bi-Coastal heading out of town towards the water. Yeah. Wait, let me ask, Oz?"  
  
Oz pulled his head in from the window, his nose still twitching from scenting the air. Xander had to laugh. "What?"  
  
The giggling died down. "What with the van and the sniffing and the. Bad Scooby Doo flashbacks."  
  
The wolf smirked and stuck his head back out the window, sniffing again. "It's going straight towards the water, man."  
  
Xander pulled the phone back to his ear. "Wolfman says that the trail is heading towards the water. Yeah. How's it going with the sparkliage? Might help out if we can follow the trail of magical glittering breadcrumbs."  
  
"My sniffer's getting beat," Oz joked, shaking his head in the breeze. Xander laughed again despite himself.  
  
"Right. Okay," Xander continued into the cell phone. "Ooh, almost done. Firework time? Oz, get your head in the window, man."  
  
The werewolf pulled his head in the window just as the air began to crackle and the trail lit up like sparklers on the fourth of July. "Now *that's* what I'm talking about," Oz grinned, nodding.  
  
"Looking good, Will," Xander commented, picking up speed and following the winding road towards the water. "We have lift off. Or at least shiny sparkly stuff. Thanks. Yeah. Spike and Buffy been back yet? Hope she's okay. I'd stick to telling Spike. No way to know how she'll react. Okay. Yeah. We'll let you know where we end up. "  
  
With that, Xander hung up the phone and followed the silvery trail.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
Buffy's legs pounded against the pavement towards the house on Revello. Both she and the demon were desperate to get there. To find out.  
  
The demon wanted to punish her by harming her babies.  
  
Buffy was torn between wanting to know they were safe at home and wanting them to be safe somewhere else.  
  
Her heart beat against her chest at a frantic pace, her legs pumping at supernatural speed, racing down the road towards the house. Following the familiar, worn trail down the grass across the street, skirting onto the sidewalk and bounding up the front steps. Before she even thought about it, the door was off its hinges and she flew past Tara and Dawn in the living room and up the stairs.  
  
"Buffy?" Dawn called, walking to the bottom of the stairs and taking the first step.  
  
"Dawn, I don't know if you should follow her. I mean, she may not be herself," Tara warned, standing up. Dawn paused, craning her head behind her and waiting.  
  
"Where's Spike?"  
  
Tara furrowed a brow. "He's not behind her?"  
  
Dawn could see clearly out to the street. She shook her head at the Witch. "I don't see him."  
  
A flash of terror crawled up Tara's spine as she pictured the wound in Spike's neck. Buffy was only getting worse. Something was very wrong. "Dawn, don't go up there. Stay out of her way."  
  
"But she's my." Dawn began. Before she could even complete the sentence, Buffy came flying back down the stairs, knocking Dawn back to the landing and pinning her to the wall.  
  
"Where are my babies?" Buffy hissed, her hand closing down on Dawn's neck.  
  
Tears welled up in the younger girl's eyes. "I.I don't know, Buffy. No one told us." She swallowed hard, taking in the empty glint of her sister's golden eyes and the etched grimace lining her face.  
  
"You're lying," Buffy roared, slamming Dawn back into the wall.  
  
"Buffy, stop," Tara said firmly from her place next to the couch. Buffy turned her attention to the Witch, letting her hand drop from her sister's neck. She began towards Tara, an evil little grin playing across her blood red lips.  
  
"Excuse me?" Buffy said, coming closer. Tara backed up a step, but stood tall. "Or maybe *you* know where my spawn are?"  
  
Tara cringed, knowing that Buffy would never refer to her children in such a way. She was gone, or buried so deep under the demon that she couldn't fight back. "I don't know, Buffy," the Witch answered.  
  
"Sure you don't," Buffy sing-songed as she moved closer. Out of the corner of her eye, Tara could see Willow move into the opening between the kitchen and the living room.  
  
"I. I don't," Tara repeated. "Spike sent them somewhere safe. He was right to, Buffy. You'll know that when."  
  
Buffy lashed out, swinging, but stopped right before making contact with Tara's face. Willow's hand was stretched towards them, pushing her power against Buffy's arm. Buffy looked back at the redhead over her shoulder, debating whether or not to attack or to flee. Something... something inside of her told her that there were more important things. Places to go. Babies to see.  
  
The Slayer hissed at Willow and dropped her arm. Before Willow could react, Buffy fled out the door, instinctively following the scent of her children.  
  
Not to mention the convenient glittering road map.  
  
To be contd. 


	31. Bound

Good evening, All,  
  
Squeaking this one in right under the wire, hunh? But it's done and out for your reading pleasure. We're winding to the big finish. This one seems to be going a little longer than the last. Maybe because I packed the beginning full of Spuffy fluff. Well, hang onto that because it's about to get ugly for a bit. Then a happy ending (and a racy one for those interested.  
  
Hope you like the chapter. I live for feedback, so please let me know what you think! Thanks for all the notes and reviews. It means the world to me that you are not sick of me yet!  
  
Thanks again!  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
Title: Bound (Chapter Thirty-one of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday at yahoogroups.com. Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!).  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Spike awakens after his confrontation with Buffy and heads home to assess the damage. Cyrus visits with the Queen of the Sky and attempts to enlist her help. Luke, Draconius and his Witch formulate a plan B to help the Pawn succeed in her mission.  
Bound  
Stars, he thought. Stars above him. Stars beneath him. Stars inside his head.  
  
Spike raised his hand to his temple and felt the heat of the bruise underneath his skin. Good thing he was a Vampire, he thought, or he'd be in the right place, lying stretched on the ground beneath a tombstone.  
  
Who the bloody hell had beaten the piss out of him? Again?  
  
His head began to clear and he felt it. An urgent, desperate pull towards something. Spike shook his head, began to sit up and heard it. Heard her screaming in his head in perfect counterpoint to the bruise that was already yelping in his brain.  
  
Buffy.  
  
Oh God.  
  
He was on his feet and on her scent before he could even finish putting together the thought. Really, he didn't need to track her anymore. Somehow, Spike just knew. Knew where she'd gone. Almost certainly knew what she'd done.  
  
Another screaming voice joined in the chorus in his head. His own. Rupert, please have gotten the tots out of there.  
  
With the speed of both Vampire and Slayer, he sprinted towards their home.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
Cyrus stood at the beautiful, enormous, glistening doors of the court of the Queen of the Sky. Slowly, reverently, he raised his hand to knock, but the door opened of its own accord. Cyrus smiled. Good to know that he was still welcome.  
  
With cautious and nearly inhuman grace, Cyrus stepped through the doors and glided through the mist. He could see nothing except for a pretty, white fog and glowing stones beneath his feet to mark his path. The Queens were big on illusion. It made them more mysterious. Not that the very women who controlled all positive aspects of the Universe needed much help in the way of mystery.  
  
Suddenly, the fog lifted and a short set of white marble stairs leading to a similarly constructed dais appeared in front of him. Cyrus stood still, inhaling, rolling his shoulders in anticipation of the member of the court. Most likely, it would be one of the Princesses. Or a Court-bound Knight.  
  
But a golden throne appeared atop the platform. Then the figure of a woman more beautiful than the human mind could fathom. Ageless and timeless and heartbreakingly perfect. Her blonde hair tumbled in perfect waves down her golden shoulders. Her enormous blue eyes, blinking from behind long, silken lashes. Her gown of white and gold wrapped around her slim, beautiful form and draped like a Greek statue. No. No statue did her justice.  
  
The Queen herself had accepted his call.  
  
"My Queen," Cyrus said humbly, dropping to one knee and lowering his head.  
  
She smiled radiantly, standing from her throne and gliding down the short staircase to her emissary. Slowly, she reached a soft, gentle hand towards him, touching his chin and raising his eyes to her. "Cyrus," she breathed, her voice like a bell on the crisp air. "You should know you do not have to be so formal with me."  
  
Cyrus blinked up at her. "You are my Queen."  
  
The Queen chuckled. "Yes. That I know. But you have been an excellent emissary. One of the few humans I have chosen for my court. That buys you a bit of slack when it comes to the pomp and circumstance."  
  
The Watcher returned the smile and let her raise him to his feet. "Thank you my Queen."  
  
She nodded, her hair cascading over her shoulders like a waterfall of gold. "How is my girl?"  
  
"Emma," Cyrus began. "Is lovely. " His face became more serious. "And she is part of the reason I have come, My Queen."  
  
An interested, if not concerned, look crossed the Queen's face. She had the utmost confidence in Cyrus to perform his duties as her Watcher, and equal confidence in both the Vampire and the Slayer that her human form had been born of. "Can I help?" The Queen asked, knowing that the situation must be beyond mortal control for Cyrus to come running back home. He'd always been proud.  
  
Slowly, the Watcher nodded, leaving his head bowed slightly. "We hoped that you would."  
  
"Walk with me," the Queen said, her voice a song in the air.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Spike took the front stairs of the house in a single bound, pushing through the door without even checking to see if it was locked, and was up the stairs without noticing the three women huddled on the couch.  
  
Before he knew it, he was pushing into Emma's room, scanning it for his little girl. Nothing. But the bag he had packed her earlier was missing as well. God, he'd hoped Rupert had been in time.  
  
Spike spun on a heel and jogged to the next room, letting the door swing open. Will was gone as well, his overnight bag and his favourite toy missing from the hastily made bed. He settled a little, realizing that the demon inside of Buffy, even if it didn't consume them right away, would not have taken their things with them.  
  
Still, he could feel her desperation in his head. Feel the demon's control of her. His own panic started anew.  
  
The steps seemed endless as he jogged back down, finally noticing the girls. "You all right?"  
  
Willow nodded, holding ice against Dawn's neck. Spike hopped the bottom stair and walked over to the group. They looked shaky. Spike could smell their fear on the air. "Rupert and his bird get the tots out?"  
  
"Yes," Tara answered. "But Spike?"  
  
Spike had dropped to his knees in front of the couch, brushing Willow's hand away from Dawn. A livid, purple bruise in the shape of a perfect handprint wrapped around the younger Summers' throat. "She been here, then?"  
  
Dawn nodded, looking frightened.  
  
Spike traced the print with his finger. "You all right, Niblet?"  
  
Again, she nodded and then realized that he was waiting to hear her speak. Silently afraid that Buffy had crushed her sister's voice box. "Fine," she squeaked out, her eyes filling with tears.  
  
Spike put his hands on her knees, looking up at her. "Nib, you know that s'not her. She didn't do this to you. Demon did."  
  
The younger girl looked at him for a long moment. "Your demon," she said softly.  
  
He nodded in response.  
  
"But you never hurt me," Dawn whispered, her hand involuntarily rubbing her throat.  
  
Spike took her hands. "Pet, I had a century plus to learn to control it. She's had two days. Used to be like that for me sometimes."  
  
The softness in his eyes, the sheer fact that Spike had never hidden the truth, made her accept it. "Can you get her back?"  
  
His eyes slid closed. He didn't know. He honestly didn't. "Hope so, Love. If not, then we have to try and teach her. You and me. Show her the what's what."  
  
"How can I help?" Dawn asked, confusion in her eyes.  
  
"Love her," Spike answered, simply. "Love wins." He repeated Emma's words from the night before and felt a weight lift off of his heart. He could do this. Save her. Make it right. His head turned towards the other two. "Do you know where she went?"  
  
Willow nodded. "She's after the kids, Spike."  
  
"Demon wants to hurt Buffy," Spike reasoned, standing. "Separate her from what she loves. Know where Anya took them?"  
  
Willow shook her head. "No, they didn't tell anyone. But.but Xander and Oz are out looking. They have a phone and."  
  
Spike rolled his eyes. "Sent the reserves out first, did ya?"  
  
"Only ones we had lying around," Tara joked, softly smiling.  
  
Willow smacked her head, shaking it at the same time, causing Spike to raise an eyebrow at her. "You all right, Red?"  
  
"Just feeling dumb. We did a spell. To track the Pawn. Who is also after the kids. And it left a shiny trail. You can follow that."  
  
"The Pawn has moved?" Spike snapped, that weight returning to his heart. This was something he wasn't so confident he could handle.  
  
The red Witch cringed a little at his sudden anger. "Y.yes, Spike. But. but." He was already moving towards the door. "Spike. wait."  
  
The Vampire turned around. "What is it?"  
  
"The Pawn, "Willow began, sending a sad look at Dawn. "It's Buffy's mom. "  
  
A shocked expression crossed Spike's face, followed by sadness. "Anything we can do to."  
  
Willow shook her head. "Don't know. Just. try not to break the amulet. If we do, she. She can't go back to Heaven, Spike. " Dawn lowered her head into her hands and Spike saw her shake as the tears started. There was little in this world he wanted to do more than to comfort her, but he had to stop this. Had to bring Buffy back. Save the kids.  
  
Spike nodded. "Is there any way that she can be sent home?"  
  
"Giles went to talk to Cyrus. To. to see if he could talk to the Queen about it," Tara answered. "But you have to save the kids. Save Buffy. Let Cyrus try to save Buffy's mom."  
  
Spike nodded, understanding, his eyes still glued to the quietly crying girl on the couch. "Niblet, I'll do everything I can."  
  
She looked up, wet strands of hair stuck to her face. "I know," her soft voice answered. "Please don't let them take Buffy or Will or Emma away too."  
  
"Never, Pet," Spike answered, smiling gently at her. She nodded, and he took off out the door.  
  
~~~~~  
"So," Draconius began, easing back into a red velvet chair. "You have put into place a method of controlling the demon in possession of the children?"  
  
Lenora nodded, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Luke paced in front of the fire, sipping at his fifth Cosmopolitan of the day.  
  
"Well?" Draconius drew out, an annoyed look crossing his features.  
  
The old woman shifted into a more pleasing form. That of the raven-haired woman in the red silk dress. Luke stopped his pacing and stared lustfully. "Neat trick."  
  
She smiled through blood red lips. "I thought it might make you more. comfortable." Her voice had changed from the dry crackle to a smooth, rich purr.  
  
Luke shifted, adjusting his pants. "Uh, sort of."  
  
She laughed, deviously.  
  
"Back to the point," Draconius sighed.  
  
Lenora nodded. "The demon is one of Vengeance," she began. "And the Pawn has a claim."  
  
Draconius lifted an eyebrow. "Really?"  
  
"She lost her daughter to the calling of the Slayer. Lost her family to her daughter's answer to her call. She can ask for Vengeance," Lenora answered, smiling thoughtfully.  
  
"Will the demon grant it?" Luke asked, hiding his now evident lower bits behind a chair.  
  
"She is bound. She must, or face the consequences," Lenora answered. "Her master will make sure of that."  
  
Draconius nodded his pleasure. "Well done, Lenora. I suppose you instructed the Pawn?"  
  
"She will do as we ask. She, too, is bound," the Witch answered. "However, we have another small problem." She pushed herself to her feet, taking a drink from the wet bar and swiveling back towards the pair of men.  
  
Both looked at her curiously. "Well?" The Old One asked.  
  
"Their Witches have uncovered a way to follow the Pawn and have sent the wolf and the younger human male after her. The corrupted One is now on the scent of the children as well," Lenora answered. A sly smile broke on her face.  
  
That same smile infected both of the men. "I suppose you have an answer for that as well," Draconius purred contentedly.  
  
"Why, yes, if you wish," she taunted, sipping her drink. "The wolf and human are easy. Just say the word and I can get them out of the way."  
  
"The Word," Luke chirped, watching her every move.  
  
Lenora smiled. "Done. They are in a motor conveyance. Near cliffs. "  
  
"Ooh, a nice little accident?" Luke sing-songed.  
  
"Some surprises are good ones," Lenora answered, her voice soft and sultry.  
  
"Go on," Draconius continued, watching his Witch walk gracefully around the room.  
  
She nodded. "Both the Vampire and the Slayer are now on their way as well. But I was thinking that, at this point, they are not much of a threat. She is completely controlled by the demon. He is consumed by saving his mate."  
  
"Let them watch," Draconius added, thoughtfully, swirling brandy in his snifter. "I *like* that."  
  
"It's unlikely they will be able to do much. And even if they do, the identity of the Pawn should stop them both in their tracks long enough for your plan to succeed, Master," the Witch continued.  
  
"Yes," Draconius agreed. "Then make it so."  
  
Lenora smiled. "I thought you would say that. I already did."  
  
To be contd. 


	32. Chasing Tinkerbelle

Good evening, All,  
  
Sorry about all the confusion with chapter 31 and ff.net. Apparently, the web addresses in the intro were really screwing up the upload. So, come over to Always_Everyday at yahoogroups.com and we'll tell you how to get to the fan listing and other nummy bits!  
  
So, here's the next chapter. Sorry it's coming out a bit off schedule, but I went to the ball game last night. No excuse, I know, but hey, the Spike!Bot enjoyed it. I fed him beer and listened to him scold me for watching the men in tight pants. He proved to me that men in tight pants have nothing on Yummy Vampires in well fitting Levis.  
  
Anyway, enjoy the chapter. The next one should be out over the weekend. Please let me know if you like it! Feedback is my world.  
  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
Title: Chasing Tinkerbelle (Chapter Thirty-two of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday at yahoogroups.com . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!).  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Xander and Oz try to get to Anya and the kids, but something stops them dead. Spike leaves in search of his family. Buffy comes across something that distracts her, but not enough to keep her away from trying to hunt her children. The Pawn makes it to the hiding place and gives Anya an ultimatum.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Chasing Tinkerbelle  
The pair had been silent for a while, all joking set aside as the reality of the task had hit home. They were following a Tinkerbelle trail, yes, but following it to what was certainly going to be a messy situation. A big bad that wasn't so big, or so bad, and one they couldn't kill unless it was absolutely necessary. A big bad that was after two kids that they, even in their own personal dogmas, had adopted in their hearts as their own. Oz was just learning this, but Xander knew it in his bones. One of theirs was one of theirs. Spike would lay his life, or unlife, on the line for River in the blink of an eye. Xander was willing to do the same for Emma and Will. Not just for Buffy either.  
  
Not just to save the World.  
  
Blood was blood. Flesh was flesh. Friends were friends. And even the Vampire was his friend now. Not that he'd ever admit it.  
  
They rounded a corner on the Cliffside road, going way too fast for conditions. Xander knew the course. Had driven to the water millions of times. But this time was different. This time was. everything. The road kept coming in tight turns as he sped and steered and listened to the tires squeal against the pavement. Oz didn't say a word. Van could take it. They had to get there. Yesterday.  
  
Around another corner and there it was. Standing in front of them. A little girl glowing almost translucent in the light. Emma? Xander had the chance to think before he hit his brakes hard, his body bracing into the back of the seat. Oz pushed his hands against the dash, yelping involuntarily.  
  
The car wasn't going to stop.  
  
Emma.  
  
Xander had a choice. Sheer drop to the right. Hard rock to the left.  
  
The choice was made for him as his tire went off the right side of the road and the van upended.  
  
The girl was gone.  
  
So was everything else.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
Knew the road was windy. SUV wasn't going to make it fast enough. Did it even have gas anymore?  
  
Spike pulled the motorcycle from its place tucked against the wall of the garage and picked it up, carrying it over boxes of toys and packaged baby stuff that was going to go to the next one in line. Whoever's that might be. He didn't have time to think about the dichotomy of his existence. His leather jacket and his motorcycle in stark contrast to boxes of pink and blue onsies with his pretty script on the side stating "Baby items".  
  
All that mattered was her. Was them.  
  
The motorcycle was gassed. Mercy of mercies it started. Even better that it purred like a kitten as he tore from the driveway and headed out of Revello faster than any emergency vehicle in the existence of Sunnydale. That's what they were, really. All of them. Emergency personnel of a different kind.  
  
The motorcycle took off after the trail, Spike's face to the wind, his mind racing and his heart pounding out a staccato beat against his chest. Had to get there. Had to save them. Had to now.  
  
~~~~  
  
Anya was in the bathroom, Will sitting on the counter and Emma standing in front of the sink. She helped to brush Will's teeth as Emma went through a complicated nightly ritual. Must have learned that one from her mother. Couldn't imagine Spike preening quite so much.  
  
She thought again.  
  
Okay, they both do have really good skin.  
  
Will was very quiet, but Emma had relaxed since they arrived, unpacking her toys and playing with the dog on the beach outside. Not that the little boy had been upset. He smiled and ate his supper, but he looked. pensive. Like he was waiting for something. It was a look they all had perfected. Waiting for the Apocalypse. The rest of them had just gotten better at hiding it.  
  
And Emma. well, she was a trusting sort. Worry didn't seem to enter in her vocabulary. Even knowing what she already knew and seeing what she'd already seen, she was the picture of calm optimism. Thoughtful hope. Peace.  
  
Anya started, hearing the door blow open. The back door had been slamming back and forth since they got there, the winter winds blowing off the water knocking the old, thin door around like a dead leaf. The last time, she thought she'd locked it. But here it was, blowing open again.  
  
"Emma, do you think you can help Will finish brushing his teeth, and then go and wait for me in the big bedroom? We can watch movies until you fall asleep?" Anya asked, brushing golden strands from the little girl's smiling face.  
  
"Sure, Aunt Anya," Emma answered, moving to Will. "Want us to stay hide- y?"  
  
Anya had to smile. Most of the time, Emma had an uncanny ability to sound mature and even had adopted a softened version of her father's rich accent. But that sentence was straight out of her mum's mouth.  
  
"Hide-y's good. Think it's just the wind, but you never know," Anya answered, ruffling Will's hair.  
  
Emma shook her head. "Nope. I'll take Will into the big room. Can we sleep with you tonight?"  
  
"Sure," Anya answered smiling. "We'll all pile in. That big, oafy, fur ridden thing too."  
  
Emma smiled. "Pony likes you. He told me."  
  
"Well, I guess that's good. Just tell him to keep his fleas off of the bed," Anya answered. "Now go get all hide-y."  
  
Emma smiled as Anya walked out of the room.  
  
~~~~~  
Buffy could smell blood. It mixed in her nose with the scent of the magic of the trail and the smell of the children she was hunting. Strong blood. Fresh blood.  
  
It made her stomach howl.  
  
Still, she had to get to the children. Something told her demon that the only way it could keep this body, this firm, strong, athletic shell, was to dispose of what the girl loved. Make is so she wouldn't want to go back. Wouldn't want to return to herself in a world where her own mouth had stolen the life of her family.  
  
The Vampire wasn't going to like that much. Sod off. He'd had a hundred plus years to get it right and still that damned poet got in the way. Not going to let it happen this time. Destroy it all now so the girl has nothing to come back for. Nothing to fight.  
  
Buffy stopped at the side of the road, her legs burning from the ten miles she had run in short order. The smell of blood was overwhelming. Her yellow eyes scanned the cliff and saw it. Caught about forty feet down the drop off on the side of the road was a van, upended and being held precariously by a tree. There was blood in the van. Fresh, warm, blood. Lots of blood. She could hear the heartbeats and the slow steady drip of red red life.  
  
Well, the kiddies could wait until after supper.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Anya walked to the door, sticking her head outside and looking around. "Hello?" She called out into the chill, ocean air. "Anyone here?"  
  
There was no answer to her call.  
  
She shrugged, stepping back into the doorway and pulling the door shut tight behind her, locking it and sticking a chair in front of it. The cold air would cost her valuable heating dollars, she reasoned, not wanting to admit that she was afraid. At least not out loud.  
  
A noise behind her made her jump. She spun, facing the sound and the dog rolled over on the couch. She sighed. "Big, noisy, sleepy thing," she sighed, getting control of her heart again.  
  
Little did she know that the dog wasn't asleep.  
  
Anya took a step back down the corridor towards the kitchen, turning on the kettle. As it warmed, she busied herself filling a sippie cup with juice for Will and a glass of caffeine free soda for Emma. She knew the kids wouldn't fall asleep soon. She was in for a long night of Spongebob and Wiggles.  
  
The demon barely noticed the sound of shuffling feet. Just sounded like the wind. Until, of course, the hairs on the back of her neck spun and a voice sounded behind her.  
  
"Anya?"  
  
~~~~~  
  
Buffy was halfway down the cliff to the van when she heard it. A low whimper followed by the sounds of struggle in the vehicle. Dammit, she thought. Had time for drive through, but not for struggling with injured victims. Not to mention, she could smell the power on the one. Wolf. No time to take her chances against a wolf so close to the full moon.  
  
Instead, she decided that she'd have plenty when she got to the kids. Maybe not the biggest meals on the planet, but the satisfaction of knowing that she'd taken away so much of what Buffy loved, and done possibly the only thing that the Vampire couldn't forgive her for. now that would be more satisfying than a snack along the way.  
  
Forcing herself away from the intoxicating scent of blood, Buffy took back off after the scent of her kids, keeping the glittering trail in her sight always.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Anya stood before the woman, eyes wide open. Even though she had known, been somehow prepared, seeing her standing in front of her, looking as normal as she had the last time she had seen her, was unnerving. It was Joyce. Hot chocolate Joyce. Mother of the Chosen One. Made them dinner and didn't ask too many questions, Joyce.  
  
A sinking feeling hit Anya as she remembered the exact moment that Xander had received the call. That Joyce had died. She was drinking fruit punch. Xander dropped the phone, tears streaming down his full cheeks. Her first brush with human mortality and it hurt. Stung as if it had been one of her own. It was one of her own. They all belonged to each other.  
  
"Joyce?" Anya said, her voice wavering.  
  
The Pawn smiled, her dirty white gown still looking beautiful on her form. She was still so beautiful. So gentle.  
  
But it wasn't her, Anya reminded herself. Or it was. But it was a her who didn't know. Didn't understand. Wanted, was being told, to hurt the kids. Kids that Anya had been sworn to protect. Not this. Not this.  
  
The demon edged her way towards the exit to the kitchen.  
  
Joyce smiled. "It's been a while. How has life treated you?"  
  
The voice was sweet and cheery. It was right. But there was emptiness to it. Foreignness, like she was there, but she was buried so far beneath the surface that what came through was an echo of who she had been.  
  
Anya nodded. "Good. Good. "  
  
"You're a mother," Joyce said, nodding at the demon's still tight form.  
  
"Yes," Anya answered. "A little boy."  
  
"Rupert's," Joyce commented. "Have to say I didn't see that one coming."  
  
"Most didn't," Anya confessed, smiling.  
  
"You're a demon again," Joyce continued, her head tilting to the side. Anya just nodded her reply. "Does it hurt?"  
  
"Does what hurt?" Anya asked, confused. She scooted closer to the hall exit.  
  
"Killing," the Pawn asked, the same sweet smile on her face.  
  
That got Anya's hackles up. This was not Joyce. Not really. Or at least not in control. "Yes," Anya answered honestly, still edging towards the door.  
  
Joyce sighed. "Well, I wish I could catch up, but, I've got work to do." She slapped her hands to the sides and shrugged. "I know the answer already, but since you're a demon, I figure it's only polite for me to just ask it once. Then we will go from there."  
  
"Ask what?" Anya asked, now at the exit, trying to work her way into the hall. Wanted to get to the kids. Wanted to know they were all right. At least block the way. Or die trying.  
  
Joyce sighed again. "I'm here for Emma. My . boss. knows. you know that."  
  
Anya nodded solemnly.  
  
"So, we could make this easier if you'd just let me take her. I promise to leave you and the little boy alone. And as soon as I leave the dimension, they told me everything would be all right with." Her voice wavered and Anya could see tears come to her eyes. There was something of the real Joyce in there.  
  
That meant there was hope.  
  
Stall her.  
  
"Buffy?" Anya asked, standing in the hall, hands on her hips, trying to make herself look somehow imposing.  
  
Joyce nodded in return.  
  
"She's pretty messed up. She almost killed Spike last night. How could you let that happen?" Anya asked. Interrogation usually worked to either bring on the guilt or the anger. But it would keep the conversation alive.  
  
Something flared in the Pawn's eyes and that little piece of Joyce retreated. Anger it was. "Are you going to give me the Peacemaker or are you going to endanger the other child and the One?"  
  
"I've been asked to protect them. I will." Her voice was simple. Firm.  
  
The Pawn sighed. "All right then. But you aren't going to like what they want me to do."  
  
Anya quirked a brow. She had expected an attack. A fight. Not a calm statement of fact.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I have been wronged," Joyce began. "The Powers stole my baby. They made her a warrior. Took her away from me. Took away my family." The voice, the eyes, flickered with their true owner's hurt for just one moment, and then flashed away. "I wish that Buffy cannot stop me from taking her child away. That no one can."  
  
A shocked look crossed Anya's face. This she definitely hadn't expected. Could dead people make Vengeance wishes? This had to be a new one for her. Well, dead dead people. The undead had an active Vengeance imagination. "You're asking for me to grant you a wish?"  
  
"You are bound," Joyce answered, returning to the automaton stare. "You must."  
  
Anya stared at her for a moment. "You know. I can't. I gave them my word."  
  
The Pawn shook her head, smiling. "It's your duty, Anya. You cannot turn away someone with a Vengeance claim."  
  
The demon swallowed, her heart now racing. Emma. Buffy. Will. Spike. Rupert. Randy. Pictures of them all spinning through her mind. They were all hers and all theirs and all part of her heart. She couldn't just hand Emma over. But there were penalties for denying a wish made by a valid claimant. Big penalties. Huge penalties.  
  
D'Hoffryn had been good to her.  
  
Anya closed her eyes and swallowed, steeling all of her strength. She would protect them or die trying. Anything less would disappoint them. Would disappoint her. She'd expect the same from Buffy. From Spike.  
  
"I cannot grant your wish."  
  
To be contd. 


	33. Dichotomies

Good evening, All,  
  
Howdy!  
  
I go another one out on schedule. Miracle of miracles. Thanks to my wonderful betas that are quick turn around artists. I hope to have the next chapter out on Wednesday. There will be 4 chapters out after this one, and then the story is over. One of those will be NC and not posted on ff.net, so be looking for an Always announcement for a sign up list.  
  
Well, enjoy the chapter. Little more drama and then happy ending, here we come! .  
  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
Title: Dichotomies (Chapter Thirty-three of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday at yahoogroups.com . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!).  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Anya suffers the repercussions of refusing to grant the Vengeance wish. Spike is hot on the trail of the demon-controlled Buffy, but something stops him along the way. The fate of the other men trying to save the children is revealed. Cyrus petitions the Sky Queen for her help. And Buffy finds her way to the kids. What will happen now?  
  
~~~~~  
"I cannot grant your wish."  
  
Anya closed her eyes as she said it, waiting. Searching. Trying to figure out what the hell else to do. She was between Joyce and the children. Probably stronger that the Pawn but there was no way to know.  
  
But she'd just betrayed her duty. Just betrayed D'Hoffryn. Who had saved her life. More than once.  
  
Some little part inside of her prayed for mercy.  
  
The rest prayed that Rupert would be okay with Randy all alone.  
  
It was silent way too long, and then she felt it like a cold wind brushing against the back of her neck. The feeling of a portal opening and the outside coming in. Of her fate catching up to her.  
  
Slowly, Anya opened her eyes.  
  
D'Hoffryn looked down on her still with such kindness. And such utter disappointment. "Anyanka, this . woman. has a valid Vengeance claim."  
  
Anya shook like a child being scolded. "I. D'Hoffryn, I can't."  
  
The elder demon shook his head. "You know the price, Anyanka."  
  
Her eyes pleaded with him. "D'Hoffryn, it's not *her* making the claim. She's being controlled. They want the babies, D'Hoffryn. I know that Vengeance is the only thing that we concern ourselves with, but those kids. they didn't do anything."  
  
"It is not ours to judge, Anyanka," D'Hoffryn answered, softening at his teary eyed charge. "We do not get to choose the wishes we grant and those we do not. If the voice came from the body, if it is her voice, her claim, we cannot deny it."  
  
Tears broke in Anya's eyes. She shook her head. "D'Hoffryn, no. They're kids."  
  
"The girl is The Peacemaker, Anyanka, she is no child," he answered, trying to make it right. Even now, in the face of utter duty, he had a soft spot for Anya. He always would.  
  
"She is here," Anya answered quietly. "She's five and she's Spike and Buffy's and she didn't do anything wrong."  
  
D'Hoffryn stared at his student a moment, watching her melt. Anyanka had been a good Vengeance demon. Before the soul, she had been vicious and efficient and creative. A joy to watch. Since, she had had a softer touch, but she could still do more harm with eternal paper cuts and penis downsizing than any other demon he had under his employ.  
  
But the woman in the white dress had made a request for Vengeance. They were bound.  
  
He took a deep breath, watching Anya's shoulders tense and wishing for just one moment that he could be to her what the Englishman was to the Slayer. That he could melt and bend to her whims and be a part of her life. But their business was Vengeance. Their family was revenge.  
  
"I'm sorry, Anyanka. She has made a claim. If you do not grant the wish, I will have to and I will have to. punish you. You know that there are prices," he counseled, his heart not in it, but his mind set.  
  
Anya nodded, silvery tears streaming down her cheeks. "I understand."  
  
"And you still wish to deny this woman's claim of Vengeance?"  
  
Anya paused, glancing over her shoulder to the bedroom. She could see Will's little blonde head peeking around the corner, eyes full of fear and regret. No one that little should feel that much. "I do," Anya answered, turning back towards her mentor and gesturing behind her back for Will to go back into the room.  
  
She closed her eyes. Waited.  
  
"So be it," D'Hoffryn said. "I will exact your punishment after the wish. Until that time, you will be prevented from interfering."  
  
Her eyes blinked open, startled. She wasn't going to die just yet. Anya's body tensed to dart for the kids, but before she could move, D'Hoffryn snapped his fingers and she was frozen in place. Silent. Fear splashed across her features, caught helplessly between the Pawn and the kids.  
  
The elder demon looked at her one last time and then turned his attention to the woman in the white dress. "Can you please repeat your wish to me?"  
  
~~~~~  
  
The motorcycle slid around the curves in the road like liquid mercury, its rider leaning fluidly through every turn. He knew he had to be going over a hundred miles an hour. Far too fast for the road. But this was far too important to play captain safe driver.  
  
How the hell had he driven with two car seats in the back of an SUV going thirty two in a thirty?  
  
He loved them. Simple.  
  
The smell of burned rubber and the acrid aroma of something more primal made him slow a bit as he rounded a particularly nasty turn in the road. Spike's eyes scanned the tracks as he rode, watching the black marks go from straight to right to disappearing over the edge. Fresh tracks.  
  
Something clicked in his head. The Witches two had sent the boys on the trail.  
  
As soon as the thought occurred to him, he slowed more and glanced down the cliff. Perched precariously against the trunk of the only large tree growing miraculously from the rocks, was a van. An ugly, old van that Spike had seen just before they left on patrol. Parked in front of their house.  
  
The part of him that was still Spike and that remembered the selfish bits of the demon that had inhabited him for so long tried to speed off, ignoring the tangle of metal and wood and the permeating smell of blood.  
  
The part of him that was the One, that was the lover and best friend to his ideal woman and the father of her two kids, and the light burning inside of him that was Buffy, made him pull the bike to a halt.  
  
He didn't have time for a full blown rescue. Had to get to Buffy. Had to get to the tots. But he could at least see what he could do. Grab the phone. Call for help. See if there was anything left to help.  
  
Spike leaned the bike against an outcropping of rock and began to pick his way quickly down the hill. Lucky for him, being both Slayer and Vampire at the moment, he had the ability to navigate like a mountain goat with stellar night vision. It took less than a minute to get forty feet down to the remains of the overturned van.  
  
He crouched by the passenger side window, looking in and poking his arm through the broken glass. "Anyone in there? You still with us, Mates?"  
  
"Spike?" A dazed voice answered. Something very basic in Spike suddenly relaxed.  
  
"That you, wolf?"  
  
A groan followed. "Yeah," the voice finally answered.  
  
"You all right?"  
  
"Um," Oz began, trying to move. "Think I'm in one piece. Kind of. ow."  
  
Spike smiled despite himself, until the thought of that annoying git began to gnaw away at his conscious. "Harris okay?"  
  
The Vampire heard Oz move around a moment, and then wiggle out the broken side window. Covered in blood, but seemingly in tact, the Wolf moved next to Spike and then lay down, inching his way back into the vehicle. Spike scooted back to let Oz work.  
  
"He has a pulse," Oz began, pulling back out. "But he's covered in blood." The Werewolf's usually laid back voice was tinged with panic. Fear.  
  
Spike nodded. "You have the phone?"  
  
Oz stuck his head back in the window, reaching around until he felt the phone against the roof of the van, which was now the part closest to the ground. He opened the flip and it thankfully glowed. "Works."  
  
"Can you call for help?" Spike asked, looking nervously back up to the road. "I."  
  
"She stopped here." Oz nodded solemnly, watching Spike's face. "About ten minutes back. Sniffed around and took off."  
  
Something welled in Spike. Terror? Anger? All of the above? "I need to get to her, mate."  
  
Oz nodded again. "Go, man. I'll get an ambulance."  
  
The Vampire nodded, sticking his head in the window. He could see Harris clearly, still belted in his seat, but out cold, his head covered in glass and blood. Still, his breaths came in slow, even draws. Might make it through another year after all. "You stay alive, you stupid git," Spike hissed, slapping Xander gently on the shoulder. "Buffy'd kill me if I let you die."  
  
Oz pulled Spike from the window, watching the fear and sorrow play across the Vampire's features. He liked Xander. More than he would admit. They were friends. Oz knew that he would never just leave them like this, even before he got all Slayered up. But now was not the time to wax sentimental about your buddies. "You need to get her, man," Oz encouraged. "She's. man, she's gone in there. Kids aren't safe."  
  
Spike shook his head to clear the haze and nodded quickly. "Get the whelp an ambulance right quick and make sure you're in working order."  
  
Oz smiled. "We're cool. Go get Buffy back."  
  
Before the Werewolf could even register movement, Spike was halfway back up the hill to the motorcycle.  
  
~~~~~  
  
"That is *very* serious," The Queen agreed, watching Cyrus pace in front of the roses in her garden. It was rare that her emissary ever showed this much fear or impatience. He'd always been the epitome of calm.  
  
"Quite," he agreed, nodding quickly. "In order to save Emma, we must deactivate the Pawn and regain the balance of the One. If we do not, then Draconius will have wrested control of the Peacemaker and."  
  
"Calm," the Sky Queen commanded, her voice firm, but her features soft and smiling. "Cyrus, you do not have to be so unnerved when requesting our aide."  
  
Cyrus stopped mid stride and looked at his Queen. She had always been pleasant and fair to him, but never had she treated him with so much. respect? Equality? Usually, the whims of the Court were duty. Formality a necessity. Politics a must. Involuntarily, he quirked an eyebrow at his Queen, causing her beautiful laughter to spread through the air like wind.  
  
"My Queen?"  
  
"Cyrus," she sighed, regaining control of her laughter. She took his arm and led him to a white granite bench, polished to a gleaming, perfect white, and lowered herself to the stone. He sat next to her, letting her rest her hand upon his knee. "You have been a gallant warrior and a faithful emissary. You know that?"  
  
Cyrus nodded, not sure if he felt that strongly about his service to the Queen of the Sky, but he had tried.  
  
"You have," she confirmed, her sweet voice so soothing against his frightened soul.  
  
"Thank you," he answered, bowing his head.  
  
The Queen smiled her radiant smile. "It is because of your exceptional service that I have entrusted you with our most valued asset. The Peacemaker is our future and our past and every moment in between. She is our child and our mother. Without her, the One cannot withstand the forces of darkness eternally."  
  
Again, Cyrus nodded. "I understand her importance to the mission."  
  
The Queen shook her head, correcting her servant. "It is not her importance to the mission that you need to protect. She *is* the mission. She is the omega, Cyrus and she will right the World all on her own. "  
  
The Watcher looked at the Queen, confusion passing over his handsome, understated features. "I am not sure I..."  
  
"You have been charged to teach her. To guide her in her growth as a human. Something that we could never do as we have never been mortal. The One has been charged to protect her. To love her. To grant her the respite of support and personal peace and familial love. Her mission will take care of itself. You must guide her and they must protect her and you all must love her as she does not understand fully what and who she is. She is older than time and five human years. There is no greater dichotomy of existence," the Sky Queen continued.  
  
Cyrus chuckled. "You've never seen her father make breakfast while wearing a leather coat, carrying a child on his back and polishing a sword simultaneously."  
  
Again, the Queen laughed. "We do have a sense of humour, you know."  
  
A smile broke on the Watcher's face. "But you did so well for her, if I may comment." The Queen nodded. Cyrus continued. "The concept of Vampire and Slayer being reunited. there was no one who believed that the Union of the One was real, much less magical, much less so incredibly. natural. They're so. normal, in human terms."  
  
"Dichotomies," the Queen replied, smiling again. "It is a feat to face one's darkness and one's light and still be able to reconcile them in your heart. Even more of an accomplishment to reconcile your heart with another. The Vampire's love for his Slayer, his heart, her soul. That is the balance."  
  
Cyrus nodded. "Will you help them? Help us?"  
  
The Queen looked up towards the sky. It had never occurred to Cyrus that even the Sky dimension had a sky. Was that normal? Her perfect blue eyes fluttered down to his, enrapturing them. Making him calm and sure. "It is the least I can do for those I entrust with my most precious of children."  
  
~~~~~  
  
Buffy could see the trail fade down a little incline into the woods. The smell of the children, her flesh and blood, was stronger than ever. A wicked smile crossed Buffy's face as the demon finally found its treasure chest in a small, pretty cottage in the tree line just above the sand of the coast.  
  
She slowed her run to a walk and savoured the smells of the ocean and the trees and the cool wind against her skin. The wind that brought the scent of those little brats that the real Buffy cherished so much. Stupid little humans. Angelus had it right. The babies made for a tasty treat.  
  
Even better, the demon knew that Buffy would never come back from this. She was just below the surface now. Pushing. Trying to figure out how to fight the bloodlust and drive the demon into hiding like her traitorous lover had done for so many long years. He'd done it from the start. It wouldn't take her much longer either. She'd either figure it out on her own or that sentimental sap of a mate would draw her out until the demon had to recede or return to Spike.  
  
Bugger that.  
  
If the demon could kill Buffy's children with her hands and her mouth, she would never come back. And the Vampire would never look at her again with those smitten, pansy, hopeless eyes. He'd see her for the demon. His demon. And it would kill them both.  
  
The smile on Buffy's face widened as she crept around the side of the house, hearing low voices inside the walls of the cottage. Shadows danced in the light spilling from the front door of the house, so she worked her way silently to the rear, listening to the voices. Smelling the scents. Reveling in the torment. Pushing down the girl inside that was struggling desperately to take her body back and save what was hers.  
  
Nu unh unh, the demon thought. Bad little Slayer. A surge of power pushed her back.  
  
The back door swung open in the breeze, waving at her. Welcoming her.  
  
A purr of an engine far in the distance made her ponder her time frame a moment. What the hell? An audience might be fun.  
  
Slowly, silently, Buffy crept into the house.  
  
To be contd. 


	34. Heart Shaped Lock

Good evening, All,  
  
Hi, there! Wow, another one on time. What next?  
  
This chapter is a little longer than most. I hope you do not mind! I had a lot to cover. But the story is almost over. Maybe three more chapters so try and enjoy it!  
  
As always, feedback fuels the muse, so let me know what you think. I appreciate all of the notes and reviews you write and will always try to write back.  
  
Next chapter this weekend, if all goes well.  
  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
Title: Heart-Shaped Lock (Chapter Thirty-four of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday at yahoogroups.com. Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!).  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Spike arrives at the beach-side cottage just in time to see Buffy enter the house. Buffy finds the children and has to make a decision. D'Hoffryn grants the pawn's wish, but she is stopped by an unlikely hero. Spike gets to Buffy just in time to save his daughter and his love.  
Heart-Shaped Lock  
Spike pulled the motorcycle to the halt at the head of the driveway, cutting off the engine and coasting down the small inclined driveway to the cottage. His heart was pounding in his chest as he watched the shadows moving inside the brightly lit cabin and the sounds of voices lift into the chill night air.  
  
As he rested the bike against a tree in the shadows near the house, he saw something out of the corner of his eye. A slight form, almost just a shadow of a person, creeping along the rear of the house and up through the open back door. The light from the inside of the house poured out and as the form reached the top step, the light filtered over, lighting golden hair and predatory grace in an almost ethereal glow.  
  
Buffy.  
  
Spike jogged down the last bit of the drive, not sure of what he had planned. Stop her. Save her. Make it right. Get my girl back. Get my tots. No real rhyme or reason but it was something. He'd always been pretty good at sorting out the battle while in the middle of fighting it.  
  
He got to the back door in time to watch Buffy disappear around the corner of a small corridor to his right. There were voices coming from the front of the house. Where was Anya? Pony? The kids?  
  
Best way to find out. Follow Buffy.  
Buffy slid silently down the short corridor in the back of the house and turned the corner, following the scent of the children and the sounds of the voices. As she reached the bedroom area, she could see three forms up ahead of her in the front of the house, engrossed in some very serious conversation.  
  
In front of her, a small blonde head peeked around the corner. One of the forms at the head of the hallway waved the little creature back into the room on her right, but instead, he had ducked across the hall into what seemed to be a closet.  
  
Must be her son, the demon thought. Looks just like that traitorous Vampire.  
  
Well, he wasn't the prize anyway. Pick him up on the way out. First things first. That tasty treat of a little girl with more power than anything else on the planet. The demon had long thought that there was nothing more potent than Slayer blood. It had a feeling it was about to find out differently.  
  
Inside, Buffy, the real one, caught a glimpse of Will out of the corner of her eye and her soul screamed in agony, trying to push the demon away. It wasn't enough. She couldn't make it stop.  
  
Make it stop.  
  
"I wish that Buffy, that no one, can stop me from taking Emma," Joyce repeated to D'Hoffryn. Anya winced and mumbled in her frozen state, her eyes so large and pained, staring, pleading at her boss.  
  
D'Hoffryn looked at Anya for a second, sadness in his eyes. He knew how much this life and these people had come to mean to her. But still, their job was their job. "Wish granted."  
  
The Pawn didn't celebrate or do the Happy Snoopy Dance or even utter a 'Yay!', but rather dropped her head and turned around, sighing deeply. Not her wish, Anya thought. Not what she wants. How can we get her back before it's too late?  
Spike slid down the corridor, staying close to the wall and hidden in the shadows from the bright lights in the front of the house. He followed Buffy's path down the hallway until he could see the figures speaking at the front end of the hall.  
  
Willow had warned him, but nothing could prepare him for her. For Joyce standing there, breathing. Talking. Gesturing. Her kind face backlit by the living room lamps. Part of him broke, wanting to run, to help her, to make her all right too. To give her back to Buffy. The one thing he couldn't ever give her. Her mum.  
  
He shook his head, trying to break the hold of his thoughts. Need to sort out Buffy first. Then we'll figure out what to do about Joyce. Spike dropped to a crouch near the door to a bedroom when movement to his left caught his attention.  
  
Spike swiveled his head towards the motion and caught sight of Will across the hall, huddled on the floor of the closet, his broken arm around his knees, pulling them closer to his chest. The sight broke Spike's heart. The boy was terrified, shaking in the dark and staring directly at his father. Wanting help. Comfort.  
  
Before the Vampire could creep closer to the boy, William shook his head. Spike stopped, staring at the big blue eyes for a moment. Again, Will shook his head and then pointed across the hall to the bedroom. "Mummy's got Emma," he whispered, barely loud enough for even the Vampire to hear. Spike nodded as the little boy waggled his finger towards the room again. "Save de giwls."  
  
Spike had to smile, even for a moment. Poor sot, in for a lifetime of romantic ideals and certain heartbreak. But it had turned out all right for his dear old dad. Spike nodded again. "Stay put, Will. All right? "  
  
Will nodded and watched as his father crept back across to the bedroom door.  
Emma sat on the edge of the bed, her wide eyes staring down in the relative darkness at the slight, shadowy form that stood against the wall. She knew it wasn't her mother. Looked like mum. Smelled like mum. Wasn't.  
  
"Come on, honey. I've come to take you home," the voice said. It was mum's voice, but empty.  
  
Emma shook her head, not moving towards the figure, but not running away. "You're not my mum."  
  
Buffy stepped into the moonlight so that the girl could see her more clearly. "Of course, I am dear."  
  
The little girl shook her head. "You're not. You're wrong. I'm staying here with Aunt Anya until daddy comes to get me."  
  
The demon chuckled. The tot had that much faith in her intuition and in her Vampire father that she wasn't even scared. Have to change that. "All right then. We'll just take care of this right here."  
  
Buffy walked towards the bed with amazing quickness, pulling the little girl to the floor on her knees and dropping down behind her. "I'm not afraid of you," Emma whispered, as the thing behind her pulled her hair to the side to expose an expanse of soft neck.  
  
"You should be," the feral voice replied.  
  
Emma sighed, slumping. "My mummy won't let you. She's inside you. I can feel her. She will beat you."  
  
The demon chuckled again. "Not doing a very good job so far."  
  
The child paused, thinking. A thought came to her as she heard the sound of footsteps rounding the corner into the bedroom. "She loves me. Love wins."  
  
The demon was quiet, struggling with the woman surging inside. Fighting pushing. Had to do this fast. "Not this time," it hissed, tightening the hold on the child.  
Joyce began to walk solemnly down the hall towards the bedrooms. It was the end of the mission. All she had to do was walk in there, take the little girl and she could go home. Home free.  
  
Why wasn't she glad?  
  
Something in her head told her that she should be sad. Unhappy. That the mission was wrong and bad and .. A fog was lifting in her head as she walked.  
  
Right as she came even with the little corridor to the bedrooms, movement to her right caught her eyes. Slowly, painfully, she swiveled her head and a little boy appeared in front of her. Standing in the middle of the corridor, blocking the way, one hand on his hip, the other dangling in a giant yellow cast to his side.  
  
Joyce stared at the boy a moment. Blinked.  
  
William stared back. Blinked.  
  
Neither of them moved.  
The Queen passed a hand in the air in front of herself and the Watcher. A sparkling tableau lay before them. A woman kneeling behind a child. A man running through a doorway, his mouth opening to speak. A little boy standing bravely in the center of a hallway staring. A confused, lost soul staring back.  
  
"I believe it is time," the Queen stated calmly in stark contrast to the dry mouth and terrified heartbeat of her companion.  
  
"Oh God," Cyrus muttered, watching the events play out.  
  
She turned to look at him, an amused smile on her face. "Oh Goddess might be more appropriate here," she chided, passing her hand through the air once more.  
  
"That of the Heavens, I reclaim to the Heavens. That of the Earth will remain on the Earth. Allow our soul to return to us." The Queen muttered something at the end that Cyrus could not make out. And then the pictures disappeared.  
"Buffy, no!" Spike screamed, running through the doorway and sliding across the floor to a halt on his knees. Emma was facing him, eyes calm but with a tinge of fear. Buffy was behind her, just out of his reach. The little girl was sandwiched between her parents. Her father's eyes were wide and terrified, but something else was in there as well. Resolution?  
  
Emma reached out her hand and touched her father's forearm. He calmed almost instantly, catching her blue eyes in his own. They were in this together. Together they could win.  
  
"Buffy?" Spike whispered, trying to find her inside of those yellow, flashing eyes. "Love?"  
  
"She's not home," Buffy's voice hissed, her eyes glimmering in the moonlight. Her mouth moved to her daughter's neck, barely touching. Spike's heart began to race again.  
  
Emma took her father's hands in hers, calming him again, and pulled them behind her, onto Buffy's hips. The creature winced as if touched by fire. Emma nodded. Spike found his footing. "Buffy," he sighed calmly, finding her eyes again and searching. Finally, he closed his own and let his mind reach for her.  
  
The little girl clung to him as he clung to Buffy, his mind bashing into every barrier behind those wicked eyes. Crushing the anger and the bloodlust and rage, hearing her crying, screaming out from underneath, pushing with all of her might to reach him before it was too late.  
  
Corridors swung open, banged shut, imagined demons cracking under the weight of their souls. He was racing through darkness, pushing through the demon, holding on to his girls as he Slayed his way through her mind trying to find his lost girl. Heart breaking at every scream for mercy in her tired soul.  
  
A flash of light illuminated the space inside of them and he saw her, trapped. Buffy. His golden goddess. Gagged and tied and beaten and tossed in a glass box that she couldn't shatter. On the door was a padlock, thick and heavy and made of gold. The lock was in the shape of a heart.  
  
Spike blinked, watching the terrified, raging girl inside of the box. His girl. Not the Slayer. Buffy. Struggling. Fighting. Screaming. Pounding the walls and seeing images of what her body was doing in three sixty Technicolor around her. He could feel his heart break just seeing her torture. Demon had done this to him once. Tried to lock him away. But love had set him free.  
  
Love wins.  
  
Buffy caught sight of him walking on illuminated foot stones towards her prison. She stopped, falling to her knees, tears streaming down her face. Her green eyes begged. Pleaded. God, don't hate me. Goddess. Anyone. Please love me. Please love me. Please.  
  
"I love you always, Pet," his voice sounded through the cold, dark air.  
  
She got the strength to look up at him, see that unending adoration in his eyes. That beautiful, endless blue holding his heart in hers in just their colour. Buffy pressed her hand to the glass wall over the padlock. He tilted his head, falling to his knees on the other side of the glass and staring at her. Holding her in his mind. "Always, Pet. Everyday. There has never been a moment I haven't loved you. Never will be. This world and every after, I am yours."  
  
The gag disappeared from her mouth and her bindings fell to the floor behind her. He pressed his hand to the glass opposite hers, fingers mirroring fingers, eyes boring into eyes. Melting, mixing, in a kaleidoscope of green and blue. "Spike," she whispered, watching the love, the forgiveness pour out of him and into her through the glass. "I love you."  
  
Glass shattered, raining to the floor in harmless dull raindrops.  
Will broke the standoff. "Gramma?"  
  
The woman shook her head, the fog dissipating in her mind. She fell to her knees on the carpet, putting a hand to the floor to steady herself.  
  
The little boy padded quietly to her, now eye level with the woman. "Gramma?" He repeated. She rocked back, looking at the boy for a moment. A tingle in her wrist distracted her as she watched the amulet on her arm glow red, and then a brilliant, blinding white. She glowed, the light forming a halo around her. Protecting her. Protecting them.  
  
"William?" Joyce asked, still confused.  
  
The little boy smiled, wrapping his arms around her neck and kissing her cheek. Suddenly, memories poured back into her. Memories from her life here. Memories of the quiet, sweet man in the In Between. The man that was now again the boy in front of her. Memories of love and kindness and family. Her arms wrapped around the child, pulling her against him, tears streaming down her face.  
  
D'Hoffryn appeared in front of the woman, a slight smile appearing on his face. "Shall I assume that you rescind your wish?"  
  
Joyce nodded vehemently, the boy's head buried in her shoulder. D'Hoffryn smiled again, walking to Anya and snapping his fingers.  
  
She stood, staring at her boss, nervous and shaking. "Guess I'd better be off then. Got other jobs."  
  
Anya shot him a weary glance. "But I didn't grant."  
  
"She rescinded the wish. Doesn't exist. Don't do it again." He slid a hand over Anya's hair, smiling slightly.  
  
With that, the elder demon was gone.  
  
Emma had just enough time to wiggle from between her parents before Buffy collapsed forward onto Spike, sobbing, clutching around his neck. Spike held her tight against him with one arm, stroking her hair and hanging on to Emma's hand with the other.  
  
The little girl sat quietly by her parents side, rubbing her mother's back, imitating her father. Buffy cried into her lover's chest, shuddering and shaking and still fighting the demon determined to rise above.  
  
"S'alright, Love. I got you," Spike whispered over and over. "Won't let it take you away from us, all right? No one's going to take you away."  
  
Buffy looked up, eyes full of tears. She looked at Emma first, making sure she hadn't hurt her. Slowly, she lifted her hand and grazed her daughter's cheek with her fingers. Emma smiled and sidled closer to her mum. Then Buffy turned her eyes to Spike.  
  
The same eyes. Always the same. Bursting with devotion and love and unconditional respect. She could drown in his eyes. She wanted to. He could take away the pain and replace everything with this sweet, soothing calmness. Rightness. Wholeness. Love.  
  
"Did I.," she muttered.  
  
Spike shook his head. "Tots are fine."  
  
"You?" Buffy asked, steeling herself for the answer.  
  
He smiled. "Nice to know you worry," he joked, causing her to grin just enough that he knew she was still in there. "Fine, Pet."  
  
A soft knock rapped against the doorframe. Spike spun on his knees as if the apocalypse had arrived and he wasn't prepared. Buffy rocked back up on her knees, pulling Emma behind her.  
  
What lay before them was nothing either of them could bear.  
  
Joyce stood in the doorway; William balanced on her hip, looking at them with a soft, gentle smile on her face. Anya was to the right of them, a sad, sweetness in her expression. "Spell's been reversed," the demon said softly.  
  
Spike raised an eyebrow. "So that's."  
  
Anya nodded. "Buffy's mum."  
  
Buffy stood, slowly, eyes wide and brimming with tears. Emma rose with her, hand still caught inside her mother's. "Mom?" Buffy asked.  
  
Joyce nodded, unable to speak, clutching the little boy against her as he nuzzled her cheek. Spike stood behind his girls to face the first human woman who had shown him kindness since he'd been turned. Love. Respect.  
  
Part of him felt like weeping as well. But the Summers women seemed to have cornered the market at the moment.  
  
"Hey, baby," Joyce whispered, her voice choked with tears.  
  
Buffy ran at her mother, Emma at her side, throwing her arms around the woman and bursting into sobs of joy and relief. Joyce looked over her daughter's shoulder and nodded at Spike. Spike smiled sadly and she motioned him to her. Gently, she pulled him into the embrace with her daughter until all of them were a jumble of arms and tears.  
  
"Mommy," Buffy muttered again and again, clutching her mother and her daughter, feeling her lover's arms around them both. Feeling another set of adult arms in the mix. Buffy glanced around to see Anya snaked behind William as well. It made her smile.  
  
"It's all right, baby," Joyce whispered, raining kisses on her daughter's forehead. "It'll be okay soon."  
  
The words registered with Spike and reality crashed down. His turned his face towards Joyce, his chin resting on the top of Buffy's head. They exchanged a glance that said it all.  
  
It would only be right again when the amulet was broken. When the amulet disintegrated, Joyce would be gone.  
  
Spike swallowed. Joyce kissed his forehead and hugged her daughter tight, closing her eyes. Smelling her hair. Feeling her warm, small arms around her waist like when Buffy was a child. When her eyes opened again she disentangled herself from the brood and spoke.  
  
"Buffy," Joyce whispered, brushing her daughter's golden hair back. "I can't stay."  
  
Buffy looked confused for a moment, tears streaming in silent rivers down her face. Spike put his hand on her back to steady her. "You just got here." The voice was that of a little girl. It broke Spike's heart.  
  
Joyce smiled softly. "I did," she said calmly. "But I don't belong here anymore."  
  
Buffy shook her head, but knew the truth in her heart. "Mom, please."  
  
"You've got family," Joyce said quietly. "Someone who loves you as much as I do. You've done well, Buffy."  
  
"Mom," she gasped, her sobs choking off her words.  
  
"I love you," she whispered, kissing the top of Will's head and handing him to his mother. Buffy took the little boy and watched Joyce lean down and plant a soft kiss on Emma's head. 'They're beautiful."  
  
Buffy smiled sadly, pulling the two kids closer to her. "Mom, please don't."  
  
Joyce leaned forward, pulling Buffy towards her and kissing her forehead. "I have to, baby. But I won't be far."  
  
"Cyrus sorted it then?" Spike questioned his voice gravelly with emotion. "So you'll go. home?"  
  
Joyce smiled at the Vampire and nodded. "I'll be back where I belong."  
  
Slowly, she held her arm out between them, the amulet dangling from her wrist. "You know what to do," she said, smiling at her daughter and the Vampire that became her son.  
  
Spike nodded. Buffy swallowed hard, trying to fight back the tears. Slowly, gently, Spike took Buffy's hand, wrapping both around the amulet on her mother's wrist. A look passed between the three of them. Love. Sadness. Peace. Back to love.  
  
It always comes back to Love.  
  
Joyce nodded. "I love you all."  
  
Spike leaned down to kiss her hand. "Wish you were here to see it."  
  
"I can see it from the bleachers," Joyce chided, smiling.  
  
"I love you, mom," Buffy whimpered, her hand shaking inside Spike's.  
  
Joyce looked at her with all the love and hope and confidence she could muster and nodded.  
  
Spike closed his hand over Buffy's. Buffy closed her hand over the amulet.  
  
It exploded into a burst of white light that covered them all.  
  
To be contd.- 


	35. Flash

Good evening, All,  
  
Well, it's drawing to a close. One more chapter of the regular story, then, by popular demand, an adult content chapter. Lastly, the epilogue. I hope to have the last regular chapter out on Wednesday. A big shout out to my betas for being so wonderful and speedy. And for putting up with me!  
  
I hope you enjoy the chapter. Please let me know what you like. Oh, and for those of you who wrote me and said that you felt sorry that Dawn didn't have a chance to say goodbye to her mum. Ye of little faith..  
  
So, email me, review me, do what you must, but *please* give me feedback! I need to know if you guys really want this to continue, knowing what most of you now know about the show.  
  
Enjoy!.  
  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
Title: Flash (Chapter Thirty-five of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday at yahoogroups.com. Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!).  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Buffy and Spike's transformation is complete. The rest of the gang all wait in the hospital to discover Xander's fate after the van accident. Spike tries to convince Buffy that she will be forgiven her transgressions. Anya rushes to see if Emma can help Xander. And Dawn receives a visitor in an unlikely place.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Flash  
As the light consumed them all, Anya reached through the glow, pulling Emma and Will to her. Buffy and Spike crumbled to the floor as Joyce became the light, glowing and translucent and then simply, gone.  
  
The lovers fell towards one another, catching each other's falls until they landed on their knees, hands clasped, heads thrown back, mouths agape and filling with white light. Will began to run towards them, but Emma pulled him back, smiling sweetly at her little brother. This was something bigger than them all.  
  
Spike raised his head, still bathed in the white glow and looked at her. Buffy brought her eyes to meet him. They locked, their souls swirling almost visibly around each other in the air. His hand rose to her face. She nuzzled her cheek into his palm. Spike drew her closer, nearer, until their lips touched.  
  
The light exploded around them, a violent swirl of white and red and black and love and light and anger and lust. Everything that made them and balanced them and taught them. Every emotion they had, surrounded them in a spectrum of colored light as his lips caressed hers.  
  
The light began to fade. Buffy blinked, shaky even on her knees. Spike's eyes glowed yellow, flickering at Buffy in the moonlight until he shook his head and they burst into blue. Unending, adoring blue.  
  
She opened her mouth to speak but found she couldn't. The world was spinning. Then the world went black.  
  
~~~~~  
  
"She going to be okay?" Anya whispered, picking Will up and comforting the frightened boy. Spike was sitting on the floor, cradling Buffy's head in his lap. Stroking her hair. Holding her unconscious form against him.  
  
"She'll be right as rain, Pet," Spike answered, feeling her inside herself again. "Just knackered. Been through a lot."  
  
Anya nodded, avoiding the million remarks that she could think of to say. If Rupert had taught her one thing, it was that sarcasm wasn't always welcome. "Do you want me to stay?"  
  
Spike leaned back against the bed frame, exhaling deeply. Emma had moved next to him, holding her mum's hand. Buffy'd want to see the kids when she awoke, but she might need some. time. to come to terms with what had happened. Another thought tore through him at precisely the same moment.  
  
The van.  
  
"Anya," Spike began, his voice picking up urgency. "On the way here, there was. an accident."  
  
Anya quirked an eyebrow. "You seem ok."  
  
Spike rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Not me, woman. The Wolf and Harris."  
  
"Xander?" Anya asked, her face suddenly becoming pale. They may have not been right for one another for the long haul, but they'd both always care.  
  
Spike nodded, softening. "Bad one, Pet. They were on their way here to help you defend the Mite."  
  
Anya's face became impossibly whiter. "They were?"  
  
Again, the Vampire nodded. "Trying to help the Peacemaker." Spike prodded.  
  
A light bulb went off over Anya's head and she looked to Emma. Emma smiled softly, stretching her hand out to her surrogate aunt. "Can I take her.?"  
  
Spike brushed a stray golden hair from his daughter's face and smiled. "Do you mind going to help your uncle Xander?"  
  
Emma shook her head, leaning forward to kiss her father's forehead. "No, daddy. But you'll take care of mum?"  
  
"Course," Spike answered, smiling at the little girl. "Always do, right?"  
  
Emma smiled. "Always," she whispered, moving towards Anya. "Aunt Anya? We need to get Pony too. The red thing on Gramma's wrist made him sleep."  
  
"Enchanted?" Spike asked.  
  
Anya shrugged. "Must have. I wondered why he didn't move. He better hurry up and get disenchanted because there is no way in hell I can pick up that monster."  
  
"I can do it, Aunt Anya," Emma said smiling and heading out the door.  
  
The demon turned to follow. Spike's voice stopped her. "Thank you."  
  
She turned, looking at the two of them wrapped around each other on the floor. A soft smile broke on her face. "You'd have done the same."  
  
Spike nodded, watching her walk out the door.  
  
~~~~~  
Giles rushed through the heavy double doors of the ICU, a place with which he had grown uncomfortably familiar. Seems that they should have their own wing, he thought senselessly as the urgency coursed through him like white fire.  
  
A flash of red at the far end of the waiting area caught his eye. He turned, finding three women surrounding a somewhat battered looking man in the corner. The Watcher stopped, eyeing them for a moment. Their worried faces. Their frantic speech. Their quiet strength. Many things had changed over the years, but they were not among them.  
  
"Willow?" Giles asked, beginning towards the small group.  
  
The woman's head shot up, eyes wide and frightened. She spotted the Watcher and nearly jumped out of her seat, stumbling towards him with arms outstretched and tears threatening to explode from those huge, childlike eyes. "Xander," she gasped as she tumbled into Giles' embrace.  
  
"What is it, Willow? You said there'd been an accident?" Giles asked, stroking the girl's hair. Cradling her head against his chest.  
  
He could feel her nod against his sweater, but she didn't speak. A voice answered him from the corner. "We were trying to get to Anya and the kids. There was this. it looked like a little girl. in the road. Xander thought. I thought. he swerved. We went off the cliff," Oz answered, wincing as he scratched at a bandage over his forehead. Other than a nasty gash and a dislocated shoulder, he had walked away from the wreckage in one piece.  
  
Giles nodded solemnly. "An illusion, no doubt, created by Draconius and his witch to prevent you from aiding Anya." He ducked his head and brought his hand up to raise Willow's face. She looked at him the same way she had when they'd first met and she'd been an awkward teenager. This lost, scared, brave little face wanting guidance. "Can you tell me how he is, Willow?"  
  
Willow swallowed hard, wiping her eyes absently with the back of her hand. "He. coma. lots of blood and broken things. Don't. I can't."  
  
Again, Giles nodded, pulling her head back to his chest. "I'm glad you're all right, Oz," he comforted; his own heart heavy at Xander's condition. "Is there a prognosis?"  
  
"Not good," Tara whispered, cradling Dawn against her chest. Dawn was still, as if she were asleep, except for the silent stream of tears.  
  
"Has there been any news from Anya or Spike?"  
  
Tara shook her head. "We had a chance to tell him.a.about the pawn." Dawn winced at the word. She wanted to be there. Wanted to see her mother once more. Even if it wasn't her. It wasn't fair. None of this was fair. "He went after Buffy."  
  
"Let's hope he managed to pull off one of his disorganized yet effective rescues," Giles commented, smiling slightly. He paused, his face blanking. An idea raced through his head. "Xander and Oz were trying to help protect Emma?"  
  
Oz nodded. "Wanted to get there before the pawn. And. uber Buffy."  
  
"So the Peacemaker.." The Watcher couldn't even finish the sentence before Willow's head shot up.  
  
"Emma can save him!" She exclaimed. "Giles, we have to. We have to find her."  
  
The Watcher laid a hand on Willow's shoulder. "Can you relax enough to meditate? Contact Anya telepathically? She's quite susceptible to."  
  
Willow nodded until it looked like her head might pop right off her shoulder. "Un hunh. Just. I need quiet."  
  
"There's an empty, small waiting room down the hall," Tara contributed, smiling quietly.  
  
The redhead smiled and spun on a heel, darting out the door.  
  
Dawn stirred next to Tara. "I. I need to go to the bathroom."  
  
"Want me to come?" The soft spoken woman asked, brushing Dawn's hair behind her ear. Dawn shook her head like a child.  
  
"Nah. Need some alone time."  
  
"O.okay," Tara answered, helping the girl up and patting her soft hand. "It. it'll be okay, Dawnie."  
  
"Yeah," she answered, turning towards the doors. "But which part?"  
  
~~~~~  
  
Buffy stirred, her cheek brushing the denim of Spike's jeans. She felt. different. Safe. Familiar. Like she'd been caught in a nightmare and now was finally awake.  
  
"You all right then, Love?" A familiar, soothing voice purred from above her. Soft, strong hands stroked up and down her back.  
  
She looked up to see beautiful blue eyes staring back at her. They made her smile. He was there. He was okay. Everything's okay now. "I think I'm me-ish."  
  
Spike helped her to a sitting position, wrapping a blanket from the bed around her shoulders as she shivered. Gently, he pulled her flush against him, knowing that the bliss of waking from the bad dream would soon be replaced by the horrors of the memories she'd doubtless retain.  
  
As if he heard her thoughts, which may have been the case, she stiffened, her head moving from its rest against his shoulder to bolt upright. Spike held her tighter against him, as if hoping to hold in the raging wave of guilt that was about to crash into her. "Buffy, we're okay," he whispered softly.  
  
Her face was horrified, her eyes filling with tears. "Where. where are they?"  
  
"Anya has them, Love," Spike answered in that same, soothing tone. "Didn't harm a hair on their heads."  
  
Buffy relaxed, but only slightly. "Did. did they see me. like that?"  
  
Spike quirked an eyebrow, turning her face to him. "Like what, Pet? "  
  
"All. demon possessed," she whispered, under her breath.  
  
He sighed, squeezing her shoulder. "You looked like you, Buffy. Just the eyes. Little like that First Slayer bint, but with better hair."  
  
"This isn't a good time for the snarkiness," Buffy snapped, turning her face away again. "Did they see me or not?"  
  
Again, Spike sighed deeply. "They did." His voice was small. Almost inaudible.  
  
Her face dropped towards the floor. "Did I. Did I attack them?"  
  
"No, Pet," Spike comforted. "Got to bout where you are right now. Were talking to Emma on the floor when I came in." It was the truth, he justified. She didn't need to have the fact that she'd exposed Emma's throat shoved back into her frightened mind now. He'd help her deal with it when she remembered.  
  
"I didn't. I didn't bite her?" Buffy asked, the first of many tears dripping down her cheek and plopping onto the blanket.  
  
"No, Love. Didn't take a bite of a one of us," he answered, letting his fingers press slow circles into her back to relax her. "Had a little tussle with your sis, but she came out all right."  
  
"Dawn?" Buffy asked, swinging her head around toward him.  
  
"Less there's another Summers girl to wrap me round their sodding finger," Spike answered, smiling softly. "Don't fret, Love. Talked to her. She knows it wasn't you. She'll be fine."  
  
"Oh, God," Buffy murmured, her face dropping again. Spike raised it, forcing her to look into his eyes. To see the love he had for her. The love she needed to find again for herself.  
  
"Buffy," he whispered, capturing her green gaze. "It wasn't you."  
  
"It was," she answered, silvery streams pouring down her cheeks.  
  
Spike shook his head. "Was the demon, Pet."  
  
"Your demon," Buffy answered, her voice shaking in time with her shivering body. "You never."  
  
"You never met me when it first took over," Spike interrupted. "Wasn't much different. Took a few days before I got a hold of things."  
  
"Yeah, I bet you went right out to attack your family," Buffy retorted, taking her anger at herself out on him.  
  
"Not straight away," Spike answered, stroking her check with his thumb. "Probably would've had Dru not taken me away. Was right uncontrollable for a bit."  
  
Buffy stared at those adoring blue eyes. "You knew it would be like this. That's why you took the kids away."  
  
He nodded slowly. "Did what I thought was best, Pet."  
  
"You were right," she whispered, her eyes falling toward the floor again. "God, Spike. How am I ever going to face them after.?"  
  
"Seems to me, Pet, that we've all been under a spell or two. Really no different. The whelp taking a turn as a hyena. Little wedding spell that made arch enemies into sappy love birds and the like." he comforted, smiling down at her.  
  
Buffy chuckled. "Funny how that one turned out."  
  
"I'm not a sap," Spike huffed, with forced indignance eliciting another chuckle from Buffy.  
  
"You really think they'll forgive me?"  
  
Spike pulled her closer. "Nothing to forgive, Pet. We're none the worse for wear." He leaned in, brushing his lips against hers. She gave in, letting the soft caress soothe her. Make her whole again. As she melted into the safety of his arms, a thought hit her like a freight train.  
  
"There's something you're not telling me," she gushed, sitting up to look at him again.  
  
A confused look passed over the Vampire's face until he realized that she had no idea what had happened with the van. She'd been there. Seen it. Had to be stuck in her memory somewhere, but she couldn't place it. That and a niggling worry were creeping about in his own mind that she had to have sensed. "There is," he answered softly.  
  
"What. Who did I hurt?" Buffy asked, her voice rising in panic.  
  
"No, Pet," Spike corrected, turning her to face him again. "You didn't do it. On the way here. there was an accident."  
  
"What kind of accident?" Her face was tight with worry, her shoulders stiff and straight.  
  
"Car," Spike responded. "The whelp and Oz .."  
  
"Are they okay?" Buffy gushed, her eyes widening with renewed terror.  
  
Spike closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "The Wolf was about when I got there, but Harris was out. Was alive, but . Pet, he wasn't looking too good."  
  
Buffy hopped to her feet before Spike could finish the sentence. "We have to go to them."  
  
"Sure you're up to it, Love?" He asked, taking her hand and letting her haul him from the floor.  
  
"I have to be," Buffy whispered, tossing the blanket onto the bed. "We need to be there for them."  
  
Spike nodded his agreement and wordlessly led her from the house.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Dawn stood hunched over the sink, splashing water over her tight face. Crying made you so puffy and sore, she thought as the water soothed her salt stained skin. Why did they have to cry so much? Why was bad stuff always happening?  
  
Maybe because a prophesied Vampire, a Vampire Slayer, the bringer of Peace and a mystical Key all called the same place home. That much power was enough to screw up any one life. Toss in a couple of Witches, an Immortal, a few demons, a Wolf and a few relative humans and it was no wonder that mystical baddies found them fun to play with.  
  
She tossed her hair back, bringing herself to look at her reflection in the mirror. What she saw stopped her cold.  
  
"Mom?"  
  
The woman in the mirror smiled. Dawn swiveled her head, but no one was behind her. Before the image could fade, Dawn turned back to the glass. "Mom?" She repeated, the tears beginning anew.  
  
"Hello, Dawn," Joyce answered, reaching out to touch her daughter's face.  
  
"What... are you okay?"  
  
"Fine," Joyce answered. "I'm back home now. "  
  
"H.heaven?" The girl answered.  
  
Her mother nodded. "Cyrus set it right."  
  
Dawn was quiet a moment, not sure she really wanted to know the answer to the next question. "In. in time?"  
  
Joyce smiled at her daughter. "In plenty of time. I even got to see Will and Emma and Buffy and Spike before."  
  
"Before you had to go again," Dawn whispered, looking down.  
  
The soft, familiar hand raised Dawn's face to her's. "And I wanted to see you."  
  
Tears streamed down Dawn's cheeks as she stared at her mother's kind face. There were no words to describe how much she missed her mom. Missed her pancakes and her cocoa and her talks and even her nagging. Missed having her arms wrapped around her when she was scared. Her shoulder to cry on. Her laughter to come home too. "Mom," Dawn sighed, reaching out to touch the face in front of her. Letting her fingers graze the familiar contours of her mother's face. Etching it again and forever into memory.  
  
"I love you, baby," Joyce whispered, taking Dawn's cheeks in her palms and kissing her daughter's forehead.  
  
Dawn hitched, a sob wanting to burst free. "I love you too, Mommy."  
  
Joyce smiled sadly. "I have to go now, but take care of your sister, okay?"  
  
"Okay," Dawn answered, grabbing her mother's hand and holding on for dear life.  
  
"It will be okay," Joyce whispered, pulling away. "Just remember how much I love you. How much Buffy and Spike and those kids love you."  
  
"I know," the girl replied, watching her mother's face begin to fade.  
  
"How much I love you," the disappearing voice said quietly.  
  
"Thank you, Mom," Dawn answered as the last of her mother twinkled out of sight.  
  
To be contd. 


	36. Glow Worm

Good evening, All,  
  
Welcome to the final regular chapter of The One. This has been a *long* book and I'd like to thank all of you who have stayed with me throughout. I am grateful to you all and especially those of you who have reviewed the story on ff.net and Always, and those of you who sent me volumes of feedback personally. I loved every minute of it.  
  
Will I continue? Probably. If you still want to read, I still have ideas. But it's up to you to tell me that is what you want. If you want more Spike and Buffy. More William and Emma. Or if you are done.  
  
In the meantime, there are two additional chapters I will release for The One that are strictly extras. This chapter ties up the story. One of the chapters will be another "director's cut" and will include NC-17 material. Because of this, it will not be posted on ff.net. If you would like to obtain a copy of this when it is released, please send a *short* email to nimueofavalon71 at yahoo.com stating that you are over 17 and would like a copy of the director's cut. I expect to have that chapter complete mid next week.  
  
Also, there will be an Epilogue to The One. That will follow a week or so later. I know that this is a little off from my normal schedule, but both chapters seem to be shaping up as LONG and I will be traveling next week.  
  
So, thank you. Every one. I have loved writing this story and loved getting to know so many of you through feedback and emails.  
  
Again, if you'd like a copy of the next chapter, you will have to request it by email.  
  
Thank you again.  
  
.  
  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
Title: Glow Worm (Chapter Thirty-six of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG -13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday at yahoogroups.com. Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!).  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)  
  
Summary: Spike has saved Buffy, but will they be in time to help Xander and Oz? Will Buffy be able to forgive herself? Will Buffy's family be able to forgive her? How will this all end? Read on.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Glow Worm ~~~~~  
Willow sat on the floor of the small waiting room, her legs crossed, trying to control her breath. God, why was it so hard to do this stuff when she actually needed it? Another deep breath and she felt she was calm enough to try again.  
  
'Anya?' She thought.  
  
'What do you want?' The demon's voice snapped back, loud and clear in the Witch's head. 'You shouldn't just barge into people's minds, you know. I'm kind of in a hurry.'  
  
Willow's brow crinkled in confusion. 'In a hurry where?'  
  
'The hospital. Xander's hurt. Emma can help him.'  
  
'Oh,' Willow's mind answered. 'Kinda why I'm calling.'  
  
'Well, you can stop now,' Anya groused. 'I'm in the parking lot.'  
  
'Oh,' Willow answered again. 'Good.'  
  
With that, a door slammed between them as Anya shut off access to her mind.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Buffy clung to Spike's back, her arms threaded around his waist as he raced through the cliffs on the motorbike. It had been a long time since she'd ridden with him like this. They needed to do it more often. There was something so free about it. Even with all that happened, all the guilt and fear that weighed heavily on her mind, she felt like they were one with wind and sky and sea as he rode at break-neck speed over the asphalt.  
  
Her head rested on his back and she could feel Spike relax. Closing her eyes, feeling the wind against her cheeks, she reached into his mind. Worry for Xander. That made her smile if only because asking him would produce a grumble. Concern over her. That made her sad. She hated that he worried so much about her. And love. Always love. She could feel it over everything else. Like an eternal spring in his mind. Never ran out. Never wavered. So much love. And she was its object. She and the kids.  
  
For the millionth time, she felt like she was a lucky girl.  
  
~~~~~  
Anya burst into the waiting room, Will on her hip, Emma trotting beside her. Giles swooped in, eyeing his frazzled mate with worry, and took William from her, hugging the frightened boy close. Dawn walked in behind her, far more at ease, the tears now just silvery shadows against her cheeks.  
  
"Are we in time?" Anya asked, as the rest of the group got up to greet her. Willow had made it back into the room just seconds before Anya.  
  
Tara nodded. "He just came out of surgery. He's in re.recovery."  
  
"Is he going to be okay?" Anya asked, her face lined with fear and worry.  
  
Giles put a hand on Anya's shoulder. "It doesn't look like conventional medicine will be able to do much for him. He's suffered quite a severe head trauma."  
  
"But Emma.." Anya began, just as the girl walked over to the smaller man sandwiched between the two Witches. The group fell silent as the little girl reached out her hand.  
  
Oz looked down at her for a moment, his head tilting, mesmerized by Emma's peaceful blue eyes. He lowered himself to his knees so he was approximately her height, letting her hands touch his. The rest were motionless as a white glow began to emanate from the little girl, enveloping her and creeping over him with a soft whiteness that was nothing short of comfort itself. Her hands moved gracefully up his arm to his shoulder and the glow turned red for a moment, and then burst into white.  
  
The Werewolf was stock still as the little girl's fingers reached the bandage on his brow, pulling it away and running soft, small hands over the gash underneath. The ragged skin knitted together seamlessly, glowing red and then flashing white. Her palms pressed to his cheeks and she leaned forward, kissing his forehead as gently as butterfly wings.  
  
The glow was gone.  
  
They all shuddered, blinking, as if waking from a trance. Oz stood again, his eyes never leaving the little girl. He rolled his shoulders, letting one hand rise to touch the unmarred skin on his forehead. "That was. Wow."  
  
"Wow," Willow agreed.  
  
Emma smiled a normal, little girl smile. "All better, Uncle Oz?"  
  
Oz returned the gesture warmly. "Looks that way. Thank.. Thank you."  
  
"You were the one trying to save me," Emma corrected. "Daddy told me."  
  
"Remind me to thank your daddy," Oz chuckled, taking the little girl's outstretched arms as a sign that she wanted to be picked up and obliging.  
  
Just as the lot of them began to regain their senses, Takina trotted into the waiting room, her body covered in bloodied scrubs. Her face lined with fear and panic. "Um."  
  
They all turned to face her, watching her struggle with tears.  
  
"He.he's out of surgery, which.which you know.but he.his brain.I mean. What am I going to do without him?" Takina gushed, her hands slapping over her face as the tears exploded. Tara rushed to the woman, wrapping her arms around her.  
  
"Ta.Takina. We think. we think. Emma can help," Tara whispered, stroking the woman's back.  
  
Takina's head rose from the woman's shoulder. "How?"  
  
"Xander. he was trying to help Emma when the Van. when it happened. So, Emma should be able to heal. help him," Tara sputtered.  
  
"It worked for Oz," Willow contributed. "Can. can you get us in there to see him? Alone?"  
  
Takina looked over at the little girl, comfortably situated in what was Oz's injured arm, and looked back at Willow, nodding. "If you think it can help, I can evacuate the whole damned hospital."  
  
"I don't think that will be necessary," Giles answered, smiling softly. "Just the room."  
  
Takina nodded. "Five minutes."  
  
With that, she rushed out of the room.  
  
~~~~~  
  
The hallway was silent and empty as Willow led Emma towards the recovery room. Takina had cleared the areas surrounding it. Some things just couldn't have audiences. No one was quite sure how she'd done it, but the fire alarm in the section was kind of a clue.  
  
Slowly, Willow pushed open the door to the room, mouth agape, eyes horrified at what she saw. Xander lay in the sea of white pillows and sheets, covered from head to toe in bandages. Only his face was visible. Stitches lined his cheek and brow, his eyes sunken and black, his skin as pale as snow.  
  
"Oh God," the Witch muttered, slapping her hand to her mouth. Emma squeezed the hand that Willow still held.  
  
"It's bad," Takina whispered softly from the darkness of the corner. "Really bad." She was quiet a moment. "River," she whispered, thinking of the little girl that was right now playing at Takina's sister's house. River wouldn't know him. He wouldn't be able to watch her grow up. Give her away at her wedding, which, even though it would probably be to Will thus binding them always to Spike, he would want to do. Tears started afresh.  
  
Emma slowly let go of Willow's hand, walked over to the side of the bed and used a chair to crawl up next to him. The beeping sound of the monitors filled the air, making it that much more nerve-wracking as the child wiggled and squirmed her way onto the bed next to the man she had come to know as her uncle.  
  
The women watched in curious amazement as the girl gingerly curled against Xander's unconscious form, cuddling up to the man with her arm thrown over his waist and began to glow. Her body became nearly translucent as the white engulfed them both. Bright, white, nearly blinding light.  
  
It had begun.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Spike pulled the motorcycle to the curb next to the hospital entrance. He'd barely come to a stop before Buffy was off the back, racing in through the glass doors. It'd become habit, chasing Buffy. Spike mused that there should be an Olympic medal somewhere for that feat alone.  
  
They didn't have to ask where to go. Both of them had been there enough times to draw detailed maps of every wing of the hospital from nursery to morgue. ICU had become one of their favourite haunts. Funny how it was never the conventional medicine that ended up saving them in the long run, yet still they always ended up here.  
  
Buffy burst through the doorway into the waiting room to see a crowd of people milling about in awed shock. Spike came in behind her, panting a little and looking a bit worse for wear. All eyes turned towards the pair, staring with frightened, wide-eyed expressions, stopping their nervous conversations.  
  
"B.buffy?" Dawn asked, tensing nervously, but trying to force the reaction down.  
  
Buffy nodded, her green eyes tearing. "How.how's Xander?"  
  
"They took Emma back," Dawn answered quietly. "Not good."  
  
"The Mite will sort it," Spike contributed, putting a hand on Buffy's back to calm her. William eyed him from his perch in the Watcher's arms and reached for his father. Spike took him wordlessly, cradling the boy against his hip and ruffling his hair.  
  
Dawn moved a step closer. "Buffy. are you.?"  
  
"Me," Buffy answered, smiling sheepishly. "We. we had to break the amulet."  
  
"Mom told me she saw you," Dawn interrupted, taking another hesitant step.  
  
"You saw your mum?" Spike asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
Dawn turned towards the Vampire. "She.she visited me here. She wanted to say."  
  
Buffy nodded, pulling the girl towards her and hugging her tight. "Dawnie, it's okay. I'm so sorry."  
  
Tears streamed down both faces. "I know it wasn't you, Buffy," the younger girl sobbed. "I was so afraid I was going to lose you too."  
  
"Not going anywhere," Buffy comforted, pulling away enough to see her sister's face. "You think he'd let me?" She nodded back towards the Vampire behind her.  
  
Dawn smiled. "Probably not. He's all obsessed."  
  
"Am not," Spike childishly huffed.  
  
"Are too," Buffy shot back. "Which is good because it's mutual."  
  
Spike thought about that a minute and sighed. "Right then. Going to sit down."  
  
Dawn giggled at the pair. "You sure you're okay."  
  
"Embarrassed," Buffy began. "Guilty." She turned, looking at the rest of them. "I'm. I'm sorry for everything, guys. I mean."  
  
"It wasn't you, Buffy," Giles corrected, wiping his glasses. "Draconius's spell.."  
  
Buffy shook her head. "I'm sorry all the same. For all of this. If it wasn't for me." Tears began to stream down her face. "If it wasn't for me, Spike wouldn't have that big chunk out of his neck."  
  
"Talked about that already, Pet," Spike interrupted. But Buffy wasn't stopping.  
  
"And.and Dawn wouldn't be all bruisey." Her hand touched the livid mark on Dawn's throat. "And Oz and.and. Xander wouldn't be."  
  
"Wouldn't be what?" A voice announced from behind them.  
  
The whole crowd of them turned to stare at the entrance of the waiting room. Standing there, looking a little worn out but all in once piece, was Xander, Emma riding piggyback. Willow and Takina stood behind them with amazed and relieved grins on their faces.  
  
"Xander?" Buffy gushed, running towards him and throwing her arms around him until he responded with a wince.  
  
"Easy on the ribs," he grunted as she backed off. "Newly healed and the like."  
  
Spike was up and over faster than he would've liked to admit, throwing an arm around Xander's shoulder in relief. "Stupid git. Shoulda known better than to race that monstrosity over the cliffs.." The Vampire let go with a manly pat.  
  
"I love you too, Spike," Xander snarked, smirking back at him with amused relief.  
  
"You're okay?" Anya asked, roaming over him with worried eyes.  
  
"Yeah, I mean. I don't really remember, but one minute I'm upside down in the van and the next, I'm staring at Emma being all glow-worm ish."  
  
"Weird," Oz said. "In a good kinda weird way."  
  
Willow nodded, amused. "Worked, though."  
  
Emma hopped off of Xander and headed over to her mum. "Can we go home now? I'm sleepy."  
  
Buffy smiled at the girl. "We can go home now," she agreed, taking the little girl's hand. "But you'll have to ride with Anya and Giles because."  
  
"Daddy has the vroom bike," Emma finished. "I know."  
  
"Of course," Buffy rolled her eyes at the little girl.  
  
Xander looked at them all, relief and happiness replacing the pain and fear. He took Takina's hand and led her out of the room, the rest of the group in tow.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Buffy lay contentedly in bed, fingers gently grazing two blonde heads as they snored lazily next to her. Spike was on his side, watching the scene with happiness in his heart that was sickeningly sweet, even to him. Sometimes he had wondered how he'd come to this place. How he'd gone from William the Bloody; he who reveled in mayhem and loved madly, to William Windsor who adored his wife and two small children and doted on them like the willing slave that he was.  
  
He closed his eyes and thought about that a moment.  
  
Because he wanted to.  
  
This is what he had wanted all along. When he was human, he was too afraid of rejection to try. When he was a Vampire, he was too angry at his lot in life to think of a way to accomplish it.  
  
Until her.  
  
Now that he had made this bed, there was no where else he'd rather lie. Not one moment of simpering or bloodshed that he would reverse if it meant not being right here. Watching her hold their children as they slept. *Their* children. Conceived in love. Even before they knew it had existed between them. Well, before she knew.  
  
Spike opened his eyes again, letting his fingers graze down his daughter's golden locks. "Think it's time I put them to bed for the night, Love."  
  
Buffy purred, opening her green eyes to look into his, and smiled. "They can stay with us."  
  
He smiled. An expression of sweetness tinged with a mischievous little twitch at the edges of his mouth. "Much as I love them, Pet, I was thinking you needed to be welcomed back right and proper."  
  
She raised her eyebrows, smiling deviously. "Well, if you insist."  
  
Spike lifted himself from the bed, picking up a tot in each arm. Buffy watched in amazement as he juggled them both without even waking them, a blonde head on each of his strong shoulders. "Back before you know it," he quipped, heading out of the room.  
  
When he returned, the room was lit in the hazy glow of candles. She had taken off the sweats that she had been wearing while lounging with the kids and had put on a peach silk baby doll nightie. One he liked. A lot.  
  
"See you've decided what kind of evening you'd like to have, Love," Spike snarked, closing the door behind him and shedding his shirt simultaneously.  
  
Buffy smiled at him wickedly. "I have some making up to do. Now that everyone is okay, you know, no threats on anyone's lives, no angry hell gods breathing down our neck, tons of hospital miraculous recovery things. I thought maybe we could."  
  
Spike raised an eyebrow as his hands moved to unfasten his jeans. Her body tensed in anticipation. Coming back to herself had left her wanting for him again. More than before. Her body always begged for his, but her mind, her heart, needed to feel him to be whole again. To be what they were before.  
  
"Could what?" Spike asked, letting the jeans pool at his feet. "Pet." The last word dripped from his lips, full of sensuality as his nude body prowled to the edge of the bed and crawled its length until he was hovered over her, hands just outside her shoulders.  
  
The answer was quiet and not quite what he had expected. "Make love," she whispered, staring up at his endless blue eyes with love and a little bit of fear. "Show me that you don't hate me, Spike. Show me that you love me."  
  
His head tilted, studying her face. "Buffy," he sighed, lifting a hand and letting his fingers trace her pretty peach cheeks. "I never stopped. Never will. Never could. You're mine, Pet. My heart. My soul. My life and my ever after."  
  
Buffy closed her eyes a moment, trying to hold back tears. "But what I did."  
  
"Is over," Spike interrupted, his lips brushing hers. "Wasn't you. I know you, Buffy." His hand lazily trailed up and down her bare arm. "Inside and out. I know where you were, Pet. Found you trapped in there. Wasn't you."  
  
"How can you forgive me?" Buffy asked, her eyes swimming with tears.  
  
"Nothing to forgive," Spike answered, kissing the tip of her nose. "But I could forgive you anything because I love you. Because this is our life and I may be an impulsive git, but I'm not bloody stupid. Not messing this up."  
  
She smiled, her hand cupping his cheek. "I love you, Spike," Buffy whispered, pressing her lips to his. "Always."  
  
"Everyday, Pet. Everyday."  
  
End of main story. Specialty chapter and Epilogue to follow. 


	37. Pinks and Blues

Good evening, All,  
  
Well, this is it. At least for book six. The epilogue to The One is complete. I'm amazed I got it done at all between Cleveland and Chicago. But here it is and I do hope it was worth the wait.  
  
Before I leave this part of the Peacemaker tale, I do want to thank some folks. To my three *wonderful* betas, PSUBrat, Meko and Cindy, I would be lost without you. I'm horrid about sending a chapter just before I want to release it and you never let me down. I'm a pretty good speller, and not bad at making a complete sentence, but I'm one of the world's worst typists, so it's amazing you guys hung with me throughout this story. You *rock* and I am grateful for all of your hard work.  
  
To those of you who gave me feedback on ff.net, Always and other sites, *thank you*. I only write this story because you tell me you want to hear what I have to say. If you stopped, so would I. Even after all of this, I'm not very confident, so I am grateful for every comment, praise and even criticism that you send my way.  
  
Many of you have written that you would like to see the story go on. If you want it, I will write it, but you need to be sure. It's *so* AU at this point (I'm not too keen on the Buffy on the show right now, although I'm standing by her), and my characters are growing up differently than those on the show. I plan to let them grow organically, so if you want exactly what you're getting on the telly, the story is not going there. If you want to see more of the path on which I have sent them, then I have endless stories to tell. Just let me know.  
  
Thank you all for reading. Thank you for writing me notes. Thanks to people on Always, as I get *so* excited every time there is a new member. And thanks to my friends for getting me through this horrible time in my life and helping me believe in myself enough to bring this story to you. I love you all.  
  
Without further ado...  
  
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue  
  
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002  
Title: Pinks and Blues(Epilogue of The One)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday at yahoogroups.com. Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!).  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike).  
  
Summary: It's nine months later. Buffy and Spike get an emergency call in the middle of the night. Spike finds out news that he is not prepared for. And Team Sunnydale ends up with a new player. Or more.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Pinks and Blues ~~~~~  
  
~~~~~  
  
The sound of the phone shrilly ringing was like fingernails against a chalkboard. Buffy groaned, trying to roll away from it, as if it were some annoying plastic demon. Spike rolled with her, never wanting to be out of touch with her soft, golden skin. The rolling didn't help. The phone kept ringing.  
  
A hand grabbed at the nightstand, groping the surface until it found the offending receiver. Part of her wanted to toss it across the room. The Hellmouth and all its three thousand parts could wait until morning. Or night. It could just wait.  
  
But part of her knew that it was her duty to answer these calls. To not just stay tucked against Spike when the world needed her. Even if that was the only place she could ever want to be.  
  
"Hello?" Her sleepy voice muttered into the receiver. Spike inched closer, tossing his arm over her waist and pressing himself against her back.  
  
"Buffy, it's Giles," the soft, English tones were nowhere near as jarring as the incessant ringing.  
  
Her eyes fluttered open. The digital display next to the bed read 4:07 AM. "Giles, it's four AM and Spike and I were out dusting a nest until 2:30. Is this, like, an emergency demon slaughter, or can we wait until.?"  
  
"It's Willow," Giles interrupted, his voice nervous and tight.  
  
That woke Buffy up. She sat up in bed, Spike's hand flopping to the side as he groaned at the lack of contact. "What about Willow?" Buffy asked, her heart fluttering with nervousness. "She okay? Is the baby okay?"  
  
"She's fine," Giles answered, realizing that the seriousness of his tone was sure to set off alarms in a girl who was constantly being told dire news. "Oz called from the hospital. She's apparently having the baby."  
  
"Ohmigod," Buffy gushed, running a hand through her hair and hopping out of bed. "Um. I'll be right there, I just need to. UGH! Spike should be there with me, but Emma and."  
  
"Our nanny would be happy to mind them. Just drop by my house on the way," Giles replied, smiling into the receiver. "It will be several hours by all accounts.."  
  
"Tara," Buffy sighed. "Where is she? Did Oz.?"  
  
"Oz brought her with them." There was a long pause as Buffy pulled open drawers, trying to find anything to wear. "The only one I haven't called is Dawn."  
  
"We'll take care of it. Be there in an hour," Buffy gushed, clicking off the phone and tossing it onto the bed.  
  
"Owww," came from beneath the comforter. "Could think of a nicer way to wake a bloke up," Spike muttered, pushing himself up in bed.  
  
Buffy smirked, grabbing him blue jeans and a white T-Shirt. He'd have to find his own button down. "Get dressed," she ordered.  
  
Spike looked at her, cocking an eyebrow. "Bossy little chit this morning. Woke up on the wrong side of the. Hey! It's four ten! What in bloody."  
  
"Willow," Buffy answered, scooping up her clothes and heading towards the bathroom.  
  
His tone changed in an instant. "She all right, Pet?"  
  
"In labour," Buffy answered shortly, pushing open the door with her foot. "Can you call Dawn? I'll get dressed and get the kids ready."  
  
"Right," Spike answered all business. "We taking them to Rupert's?"  
  
"Nanny said she'd watch them. Probably finish sleeping there." With that, she shut the door behind her.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
Spike pulled on his jeans, digging through the tangle of blankets for the phone. It was buried towards the end of the bed, caught up in the tailing end of a sheet. He pushed the digits to Dawn's new off campus apartment from memory. They talked quite often. She was his Niblet, after all.  
  
"Hello?" A groggy male voice said.  
  
The hair on the back of Spike's neck went up and he felt a growl forming in his throat. "Dawn there?"  
  
"One minute," the voice answered. Spike felt his blood boil and his jaw tighten as he heard the rustle of bed linens and a soft sigh.  
  
"Hello?" Her voice. Dawn.  
  
"What in bloody hell are you doing, Dawn?" Spike exploded as soon as his mind registered her voice through the anger.  
  
"Hunh?" Dawn's sleep addled mind wasn't allowing her to process the situation. "Spike?"  
  
"Glad you've got your head on straight enough to remember that," Spike snarked, pulling on his shoes. "What is that stupid git doing at your house at four A.M.?"  
  
Dawn giggled nervously. "Don't suppose you'd believe we were up late studying?"  
  
"No," Spike answered, not sharing her sense of humour this morning.  
  
"Spike, I.."  
  
He heard Buffy rustle around in the bathroom and realized they were on a time schedule. "We *will* talk about this later, Pet. But I'm calling because Red."  
  
"Ohmigodissheokay?" Dawn's now awake voice blurted into the phone. Spike winced at the shriek, thinking how much the Summers sisters could be alike.  
  
"Fine," Spike snapped. "Having the tot at the moment."  
  
"In the hospital?"  
  
"No, in the circus tent cross the road, of course in the hospital," Spike replied, still annoyed with a man answering Dawn's phone.  
  
"Emma wasn't born in a hospital," Dawn countered.  
  
Spike sighed, clenching his teeth. "Just thought you might want to be there and all, Nibs."  
  
Dawn sighed equally deeply. "I know. Thanks. Be there in a few."  
  
"Right then." Spike paused for a moment. "And Nibs?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I'd suggest leaving lover boy behind this morning."  
  
~~~~~  
  
It seemed like an eternity between the time that Spike made the call, brushed his teeth, got Emma sorted while Buffy got Will, loaded them all in the car, dropped the tots at Giles' and made it to the hospital. All in all, they did it in forty-five minutes flat. A new record with two kids under six. But all of the random thoughts running through Spike's head made it seem so much longer.  
  
Willow. Having a baby. Possibly a baby werewolf. There was a thought.  
  
Dawn. Sleeping with Brian. Possibly living with him. She'd been avoiding having Spike visit the flat.  
  
Buffy, all flushed and nervous and excited as if it were her own child coming into this Earth. She didn't get much of that either time. What with the mystical rights of the first and the dire circumstances of the second.  
  
And himself. Wondering how all of this came to be. Even if he helped orchestrate it all. How did they go from a ragtag team of demon fighters to an extended family of half of Sunnydale?  
  
Didn't matter at this point. He loved his life. Even if he drove an SUV, was teaching a little girl how to write in the Queen's English and showing a little boy what real football looked like. Oh, and loving the hell out of his wife.  
  
His wife that was currently running full throttle up a flight of stairs at least a furlong in front of him.  
  
He'd caught her by the time they'd reached the maternity ward. Buffy burst through the door with her customary subtley, followed by her faithful Vampire to a full house. Giles stood chewing on his thumbnail against the wall, Anya napping quietly in a chair next to him. Xander paced nervously, gesturing wildly at Takina who just giggled at his display. Oz sat in a chair, his face haggard and tired, staring blankly at the wall with a vague look of surprise. Tara sat uncomfortably next to him, looking like she might burst at any moment.  
  
It took Buffy a second to determine which nervous wreck to approach first. One would think that, with the number of times they had collectively been through this, they'd be old hat. But it was never that way. The same nervous excitement coursed through every new member of the throng.  
  
"Xander?" Buffy asked, approaching the pacing man with extreme caution.  
  
Xander spun as if poked with an electric cattle prod. "Hunh? What?"  
  
"S'ok," Buffy said, softly smiling and stroking his arm.  
  
He smiled nervously. "Yeah, I just. I'm worried about."  
  
"I know," she answered. Buffy shifted her gaze to Takina. "Everything okay?"  
  
"She's fine," Takina answered. "Regular old gut wrenching, screaming labour."  
  
"Remember that," Buffy mused, crossing her arms against the chill of the waiting room. As if on cue, Spike draped his jacket over her shoulders, kissing her neck before retreating back to his fellow countryman. "How's Oz?"  
  
"Spooked," Takina answered, smiling over at the stunned man. "He's been in there with her for a few hours. They're running some tests and then he and Tara can go back in."  
  
"About that," Xander contributed. "I mean. it. they both. it happened on the same night, right? So how come Willow's in there and . Tara."  
  
Takina smiled. "Not an exact science, baby."  
  
"You put a cake in an oven and set the timer for nine minutes, it goes off in nine minutes. I don't get why babies don't work the same way," Xander griped, resuming his pacing. "It's not logical."  
  
Buffy chuckled. "Babies. Logic. Non mixy."  
  
A smiling nurse came out into the waiting room and walked over to Oz. "You can come back in now, if you like. "  
  
Oz nodded, never saying a word and stood, leaning down and helping to lift Tara from her seat. Tara smiled, obviously feeling horribly ungainly, but managing to look absolutely radiant, and pushed herself up with all her strength. Without a word, they disappeared behind the door.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Spike could hear the deep breathing, as if someone was steeling their resolve, from behind the waiting room doors before they opened just a crack. He waited, watched, as they opened a bit more and Dawn poked her head through.  
  
"Dawnie!" Buffy chirped, oblivious to the conversation her sister had with her other half this morning.  
  
"Hi, Buffy," Dawn said meekly, cowering in the doorway. "Willow all right?"  
  
"Just, having a baby," Buffy answered, still smiling. She cocked an eyebrow, watching her sister. "Why aren't you coming in?"  
  
Dawn paused a moment. "Spike here?"  
  
"Right here, Dawn," Spike answered from the other side of the door in his most paternal of voices. Dawn's shoulders dropped at the sound and she gave in, walking into the waiting room.  
  
Followed by Brian.  
  
Spike felt his whole body tense at the sight of the tall, muscular, baby- faced boy. Not much of a gentleman, though, despite his decent manners. Stealing away his Niblet's innocence like that. Should pound his head into the cement. Poke his eyes out with.  
  
He hadn't even realized that he was approaching the couple at mock speed, his features changing to Vampire, until Buffy stepped in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. "Now wait a minute, oh possessive one. What's got you all fangy grr..?"  
  
Spike shook his head, his face returning to human. Brian was as white as a sheet, Dawn between him and Buffy. The Vampire shifted his gaze to his wife. "Bloke answered the phone at four A.M. at Niblet's place. Don't think they were up watching the Monty Python marathon on the telly."  
  
Buffy sighed, turning towards Dawn. "You didn't tell him?"  
  
Spike's face grew still and he stared slack jaw at the sisters. Then the anger bubbled anew. "You. you knew?" His voice was a mixture of fury and hurt as he stared at Buffy with wild eyes.  
  
Again, Buffy sighed. "Only yesterday. And I told Dawn she had to talk to you herself."  
  
"You knew," Spike repeated, his voice now more hurt than anger. Buffy reached up to touch his face and he flinched away. "No, Buffy. I thought we shared everything."  
  
The rest of the crowd stared at them as if watching a soap opera. Even the wait station nurses were riveted to the scene. "Now wait," Dawn interrupted. "I.I told Buffy that I'd moved in with Brian but I told her not..."  
  
"You moved *in*! Niblet, you're a tot yourself, for God's sake," Spike boiled. Brian had backed himself towards the door, not leaving his girlfriend alone, but making way for a hasty retreat.  
  
"I'm twenty, Spike," Dawn answered, crossing her arms across her chest. "I'm old enough to make my own choices."  
  
"You approved of this?" Spike asked Buffy incredulously.  
  
"Don't have that option, Spike," Buffy answered, matter-of-factly. "She's an adult. If you want my opinion, I think she's too young to be living with any guy, but it's not my choice anymore. I'm not her guardian.."  
  
Spike looked from one girl to the other and back again, and then surveyed the staring crowd. "Can't believe the lot of you. Letting a young girl live with an older man before they."  
  
"I'd stop there, "Xander interrupted. "I mean, since you're kind of over a century and Buffy. well, Emma wasn't exactly conceived in the whole marital bed."  
  
"That's a wholly different situation," Spike defended, his Victorian sensibilities and manners kicking in. Then, his more conventional attitude made an appearance. "Don't have to defend myself to you, whelp and I don't remember asking your opinion."  
  
"Spike," Buffy and Dawn whined in unison.  
  
Spike shot a look at both of them, then at the offending boy at the door. He felt ganged up on. Overwhelmed. Terrified that the Boy Scout would hurt his Niblet. Furious that Buffy had kept this from him. Hurt that there were secrets he didn't know.  
  
But there was no fighting them. Never had been. He stared Buffy in the eyes for a moment, nearly melting under her emerald gaze. But before he could crumble, he ran.  
  
~~~~~  
  
"Well, that didn't work," Luke complained, standing in front of the raging fireplace in his room. "Can't send a Heavenly soul to do what only a Hell beastie should."  
  
"I don't remember asking for your lack of expertise," Draconius snarked, sipping at his brandy. "You weren't much of a help in the matter anyway."  
  
Luke smiled slyly, leaning up against the mantle in his best GQ pose. "I seem to recall that you were banished from their world. Sought refuge here at La Maison Rouge. Think you should be grateful that you have a roof over your head."  
  
"I could live in any dimension. *Rule* any dimension," Draconius retorted.  
  
"Funny," Luke answered, shifting his back to the wall. "Don't seem to be ruling mine. And you seem to be losing a pretty simple game to a little girl and her bouncy blonde momma and compact, well muscled Vampire of a daddy."  
  
Draconius snorted. "I haven't lost a thing."  
  
"Don't see the Peacemaker on our side, Bubba."  
  
"Ah, but that was just a battle, not the war," the Old One answered. "I have a plan."  
  
~~~~  
  
Spike sat on the edge of the ambulance bay, feet dangling over the concrete wall. He vaguely heard the whoosh of air behind him as the bay doors opened, and the click of boots on the pavement.  
  
She settled down next to him, her hip flush to his. He was beautiful sitting there chewing the inside of his lip in the rosy glow of sunrise. Lit in golds and pinks and oranges and tense with worry and love.  
  
"Spike," Buffy breathed, moving her hand over his and stroking his fingers. "I'm sorry."  
  
"Shoulda told me, Pet," Spike answered, looking at the sun peaking over the horizon. "Not the kind of thing you hide."  
  
"You're right," Buffy agreed, her voice quiet. "But it's not our decision any more." There was a long pause before either of them spoke again. "She grew up. She made a choice. You, me, we don't have to like it. We don't even have to agree, but all that's going to do is push her away from us. It's not going to change her choices. I think I'd rather keep her in our lives and let her make decisions I don't agree with than be right and push her away."  
  
Spike looked up at the sky, a strange mix of dark and light. This was hard. Like letting Will go the first time when he was learning to walk. Or letting go of the side of the bike when Emma could do it on her own.  
  
Letting go.  
  
"Just don't want her to get hurt, Pet," Spike finally said, turning to face his love.  
  
Buffy smiled softly. "Me neither," she answered. "But she's got to make her own mistakes. It doesn't mean we have to love her any less."  
  
"Can't do that," Spike chuckled. "She's a Summers girl. Genetic weakness for that lot."  
  
"For what it's worth," Buffy continued, touching his cheek, "I do think Brian loves her. Anything that happens.. I think he'll try, Spike. I don't think he'll hurt her on purpose."  
  
"Because I'd kill him," Spike snapped.  
  
Buffy chuckled again. "I think he knows. But still he stays with her. Takes a lot when you've seen us in action to want anything to do with us."  
  
Spike returned his gaze to the sun and nodded. "Guess you've got a point. I. I just don't like the thought of Dawn."  
  
"Growing up?" Buffy answered for him. He nodded his reply. "Can't stop it. She's growing up. Emma. Will. River.. We're getting older. Must be pretty new to you."  
  
"I miss when they were babies, Buffy. Knew what they needed then," Spike answered, his heart pouring out from behind blue eyes. She felt her own melt watching.  
  
"I miss that too. Maybe. maybe if we're lucky." she began looking at her knees.  
  
Spike watched her face, knowing what was in her head. That she wished she could do it over. Wished she could have another. But it wasn't up to them. Fate controls everyone's lives to some degree. But when you're the prophesied ones, it controls every moment. "Pet, I love you always no matter what. Love them too. Just. not used to all this . growing up. Responsibility and all that rot."  
  
A tear dribbled down her cheek and he wrapped an arm around her. "You're doing fine," she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder.  
  
Softly, he kissed her head. "Sorry for snapping off."  
  
"Sorry for not telling you."  
  
"Buffy," Spike began. "If it were possible, would you."  
  
"I'd have another baby in an instant with you," she finished. "But you said it. It's not up to us."  
  
"Maybe someone is listening, Pet."  
  
~~~~~  
  
Buffy slept soundly in Spike's lap, his face buried in her hair. Brian held Dawn a few chairs over in almost an identical position. Spike watched them sleep for a while. At peace. Curled around each other like kittens and smiled at his own little feline in his lap. Maybe Buffy was right. Maybe he did love her just enough.  
  
Oz burst through the door, startling them all awake, his eyes wildly happy and a smile spread from ear to ear. Xander nearly fell over himself popping out of his seat and stumbling over to Oz.  
  
"So?" Xander asked, rubbing his hands together.  
  
All eyes turned to the werewolf. "It's a boy," Oz answered, the smiled broadening on his face. "And a girl."  
  
"What?" Buffy asked, shaking her head.  
  
Spike's eyes opened wide. "Twins?"  
  
"No, I mean. Weirdest. Willow was almost. and Tara. I mean kind of." Oz stuttered, his mind racing, his heart pounding in his chest.  
  
"Slow down," Anya interrupted. "Start with Willow."  
  
"Willow was in labour. Towards the end. She was screaming. Tara was with her, helping her breathe and then. And it was like. magic. They took Tara onto a bed and she. she was almost as far into it as Willow but she didn't want to leave her alone. So, they let them stay. "  
  
"And both of them had their kids?" Dawn asked.  
  
"Like, five minutes apart," Oz said, dumfounded wonder in his eyes.  
  
"Who belongs to which?" Spike asked, lifting Buffy to her feet and standing behind her.  
  
"Guess they. they kind of all belong to all of us," Oz answered, furrowing his brow. "Um, but Willow had the little boy first, and then Tara had a little girl right after."  
  
"Everyone all right?" Giles asked.  
  
"Perfect," Oz answered. "Absolutely perfect."  
  
~~~~  
  
It was quiet in the hall in front of the nursery. Oz, Xander and Takina were visiting with Willow and Tara. The babies were in the nursery while the women rested a bit. Dawn and Brian had gone with Giles and Anya to go get some lunch. Spike was .. Somewhere.  
  
Buffy stood alone in front of the plastic cradles staring through the window at the two tiny babies next to each other. Pink and rosy and beautiful. The boy had a shock of red hair and the cheeks of a cherub. The girl was quiet and content, staring up at Buffy with kind and knowing eyes. Beautiful, healthy, non mystical, babies.  
  
She felt arms wrap around her waist from behind. "Remember going to see Will in one of them," the deep voice purred in her ear. "Cept with a few more wires and gadgets."  
  
Buffy closed her eyes and leaned back into him. "They're beautiful babies," she whispered, her fingers tracing the glass.  
  
"They are," Spike agreed. "Not ours, but a close second."  
  
Buffy giggled, reaching her hands around his neck. "Why wasn't it. I don't know. normal like this for us? You know. Hospital. No emergency. Nice, hellaciously painful regular old baby delivering?"  
  
"'Cause we're not normal, Pet. Not supposed to be, you know. Vampire and a Slayer. But it is. Wouldn't have it any other way," Spike answered, brushing her hair away from her cheeks.  
  
"Even if it meant that we could do whatever we wanted whenever? I mean, now it's up to the Fates if we can ever do this again. We could die in battle tomorrow. We could."  
  
"Regular people have the same problems, Pet. Way I see it, you and I have everything. Wouldn't ask for anything more. Got each other. Got the tots. Got our family and friends. Even Xander, when he's not being a git." Buffy giggled, burying her face in his warm chest. "Wouldn't change a thing."  
  
"Nothing?" Buffy asked.  
  
"Nothing," he answered, stroking her hair and kissing the top of her head. "I love you, Pet."  
  
"Always, Spike."  
  
"Everyday, Love."  
  
End Book Six 


End file.
